


Till we collide

by Honeyeollie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Amnesia, Angst, Betrayal, CEO Byun Baekhyun, Childhood Trauma, Death Threats, Informant Park Chanyeol, Lust, M/M, Minor Character Death, Organized Crime, Panic Attacks, Power Bottom Byun Baekhyun, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Top Byun Baekhyun, Top Park Chanyeol, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 99,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26630887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeyeollie/pseuds/Honeyeollie
Summary: In search of vengeance for the death of his father, Chanyeol built a name for himself as a well-known information broker in Seoul, attracting all kinds of clients from as far as outside the city. He didn’t expect to be set on the right track to find the one he’s been looking for when he was approached for a job by one of the most powerful gang leaders and businessmen in Busan, Byun Baekhyun.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 152
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've been wanting to get this mafia au out of my system for the longest time (i shit you not i've been outlining and plotting this since early 2018), so here it is~!! this fic is //complete// and will be uploaded on a weekly basis ♡
> 
> i'd really like to thank my beta (best beta) @velvetkaisoo for being so patient with me over the past 6 months and for shaping up this fic to be its best version TT it never would've seen the light of day without you so thank you so much o<< and thank you for providing me with all the positive energy i needed to finish it!! 
> 
> also would like to thank rayray and astrid for the encouragement and hype throughout parts of the planning/writing processes and for putting up with me whenever i wanted to talk about the fic -^- ♡
> 
> it's a slow start, but here's chapter one!

“I must say, Park, this is your most detailed profile yet.”

Chanyeol gave a lopsided smile. “Of course,” he said as he stood up at the hand offered to him. He extended his own arm to shake the other’s hand. “Anything for the KNP,” he added, bowing his head down slightly. 

The inspector he was facing bowed back. “Expect to be contacted by the chief soon to review some things. Other than that, we’re pretty much done with this case.”

“Great to hear.” Chanyeol pushed his swivel chair back until he heard it collide lightly with the window behind him, grimacing at his lack of self control. 

He brushed it off and walked around his desk to close the distance between the inspector and himself. “I hope you get those guys off the streets as soon as possible.” 

The inspector shoved the folder Chanyeol had worked on for about two weeks inside his briefcase, and Chanyeol’s eyes followed the movement instinctively. It was quite the dense folder, piles of papers neatly organised and separated by labels and paperclips stacked within. It was what the inspector had initially come for. The couple of hours they spent going over everything were just a formality for the inspector to check whether Chanyeol covered enough or not. 

With the folder safely in his briefcase, the inspector looked back up at him as he closed his bag, and Chanyeol’s eyes immediately followed that motion as well— taking note of the way the inspector’s fingers quivered faintly.

“Thanks to you, we’ll be able to have them locked up sooner than expected,” the inspector said as he gave a tired smile. “I’ll wire you double the amount since it was on such short notice.” 

He watched again as the inspector reached for his phone in his blazer’s pocket. The other spent a few moments tapping here and there, until he heard his own phone on his desk give a single quick buzz. 

“Check your account,” the inspector said.

Chanyeol smiled. “No need.” He walked back behind his desk. Instead of sitting back on his swivel chair properly, he rested both his knees up on top of it while his hands held onto the back as he faced the window, from which the only source of light was being cast into the room through a combination of yellow to red hues. 

“I assume you know your way out?” Chanyeol asked.

The inspector let out a chuckle from behind him. “I do,” he said. “Thank you for your services, kid. See you next time.” 

“Bye.” 

Chanyeol focused his hearing on the echo of the footsteps moving away from him, headed towards the only exit to his luxurious penthouse. The elevator. His eyes remained on the view of Songpa in front of him. 

As nighttime approached, orange lights started emitting from the lamps lined up in the streets below, as well as on Jamsil Bridge, illuminating the city beneath him completely. Chanyeol preferred this time of the day over any other. 

He allowed his eyes to slip close and listened for the sound of the elevator ding that came soon after the footsteps stopped. When the elevator dinged again and he no longer felt the restless presence of the other man, he sighed in relief, running his fingers through his red hair.

Finally.

The urgent job request came at such an unfavourable time for him, as he was working on a university paper he had procrastinated doing. He never thought having so much free time on his hands would still bring delays, alas it was easy to get distracted when a bachelor’s degree would be a mere accessory for him. 

Chanyeol wasn’t sure why he even got his high school degree to begin with and, consequently, why he applied for university. Not to mention why he has been bothering with his tuition fees in the past four years when he didn’t even attend as often as he was supposed to. 

Having been raised by his grandparents, all they ever did was encourage him to finish school and get a degree. Perhaps he was doing it for them— he already bought them a house with the money he had earned through his line of work, but he still felt like he owed them for everything they’ve done and sacrificed for him.

Or perhaps a part of him wanted to retain a normal life. As normal as life could be for a 22-year-old, infamous information broker whose services were trusted enough to be required by the country’s national police agency. But that was just every once in a while. 

As of recently, his work had been rather mundane: locating missing persons, building profiles, or getting paid a generous amount of money for having someone’s spouse stalked to find out whether they were being unfaithful or not. Nothing had been exciting enough for him to get worked up about. 

There was also the fact that he had hit a rut with his search for those who murdered his father. 

Everything he learned about what happened to his father came from a hacker by the name of Strike. He had known the hacker for about six years, just as long as he’d been in the business. It hadn’t been long since he had resorted to Strike to help with his father’s case, but even he could only find so much about it, and what he found were only deductions and conclusions of what might have happened on the night he died. 

Chanyeol continued to live with his grandparents even after the intricate aftermath of his father’s death, which was due to the nature of his job. He didn’t— and still doesn’t know anything about it other than the fact that whatever it was he did was the reason Chanyeol couldn’t live with him when he was younger. Meaning it was possibly something dangerous.

He did, however, visit his father often. And to this day, he didn’t understand how anyone would do something that terrible to him. How anyone could hate him enough to—

With a vigorous shake of his head and a close call with falling off the chair, he willed the memory away.

Now was not the time.

While one of Chanyeol’s hands was gripping at the back of the chair to stay balanced, he found that the other was unconsciously rubbing at the deep, barely faded scar that ran horizontally across the bridge of his nose, but not all the way through. A habit he had whenever he was deep in thought.

He brought his hand back down to rest with the other, then pushed himself off the chair to sit on it properly, using his long legs to drag himself back in front of his desk.

Chanyeol opened up a document he had been working on on the side that was of less importance than the one he had just finished for the Korean National Police. 

The quick, single vibration he felt on the table alerted him of a message before he heard the notification tone of his phone— the work phone. He reached out for it and unlocked it.

He only had one contact saved on this unregistered phone. Chanyeol ran a legal business, so he didn’t need much secrecy or sneaking around with his usual jobs. 

Although he did need to get specific information through illegal means— Strike. And whatever job he helped with, Chanyeol gave him 50% of the profits.

**From Strike:**

I got the info and I’ve emailed it to you

**From Strike:**

Let me know if you got it

Chanyeol briefly switched from the document to the browser, where his inbox was already opened on a tab. An unread email sat at the top of the list.

**To Strike:**

i did, thanks

**From Strike:**

Good, let me know if there’s anything else you need

**To Strike:**

there is, actually

**To Strike:**

did you look him up like i asked?

**From Strike:**

Chanyeol, I told you many times before

**From Strike:**

Busan Kims had nothing to do with it

Chanyeol sighed, rolling his eyes. The hacker could be somewhat dodgy at times, but never dismissive. And that seemed like all he could give him when it came to this specific case nowadays.

**To Strike:**

i said him, not them. just kim yongnam

Chanyeol didn’t wait for a reply. He exited the conversation and put his phone back on the surface in front of him. He leaned back on his chair and stared at the ceiling.

“He’s finally gone?”

He hummed in response.

“That took longer than usual.”

“You know the chief likes his details thorough,” Chanyeol said, sitting back up to look at the newcomer.

Clad in a perfectly tailored suit with his necktie loose but still slung around his neck underneath his white dress shirt’s collar, Kim Junmyeon took confident, graceful strides into the living room.

Much unlike the rest of his appearance, his hair looked rather disheveled and, as he stood over at the other side of Chanyeol’s desk, the informant could see sleep lacing his slightly red eyes.

Chanyeol’s phone buzzed on his desk, and he followed Junmyeon’s eyes to the lit screen that showed his— thankfully hidden— notifications from Strike.

He couldn’t help but smirk as he looked back up at Junmyeon’s face, catching him in the act.

Junmyeon reciprocated with a smile too soft for a person second in line to take over as the chairman for one of the two biggest companies— and crime syndicates— in Busan.

Which is why Chanyeol believed he would never take over, even if given the opportunity to. He was too _soft_.

Chanyeol’s line of work had allowed him to develop many skills, such as one for figuring out a person’s intentions with one look. Sometimes it took as long as a word or a sentence, but it usually only took a single glance. And he never sensed anything from Junmyeon that would make him untrustworthy.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be letting him practically sit through a private meeting— albeit from another room and _possibly_ asleep— with him and a higher-up inspector from the KNP.

“Are you still looking into _that?”_ Junmyeon asked.

“I am,” Chanyeol was curt as he picked his phone back up and quickly read through Strike’s replies.

**From Strike:**

I didn’t find anything tying him to your father.

**From Strike:**

He wasn’t in Seoul that night, so he pretty much checks out.

**From Strike:**

Look, I feel like we’re finally going at this in the right direction too

**From Strike:**

But the thing is, no matter where and how deep I dig, I still can’t find even the most insignificant piece of info on your father. And we both know what that means.

It meant that whoever killed him knew what they were doing.

Chanyeol sighed. Yet another dead end.

He typed out a quick thank you and that he would contact him again later, then put his phone down and looked back at Junmyeon, who had both his legs and arms crossed on the leather couch in front of his desk.

The informant’s view was Junmyeon’s side profile, so he couldn’t make up much of his expression as he spoke his next words. Clever of him to do, Chanyeol thought, as the elder always hated whenever he was left completely bare for Chanyeol to read.

“It’s been 10 years, Chanyeol,” he said. “You know more than anyone how much of a lost cause this hunt is.”

“And you know more than anyone that if _anyone_ can find out the truth about what happened that night, it’s me.”

Junmyeon let out a sigh. “I’ll be heading back to Busan in a few days.” He said as he got up and fixed up his hair. “I hope you don’t end up cancelling on me again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chanyeol waited until the other was in the elevator and already on his way back down before he allowed his mask to fall.

Something about all his father’s information, all the work he had on his desk, his computer, his folders, his credit card information — everything being gone, didn’t sit well with him.

He first needed to learn what exactly his father did for a living. Maybe then he would find a better lead than suspecting a shady mafia chairman for dropping by unannounced for a job.

——————

Junmyeon had sent a car for him, but Chanyeol took the subway.

He didn’t enjoy car rides, as he couldn’t get so much as a glimpse of the other side of the window before everything went flashing by. He couldn’t observe properly, and he didn’t like that.

Chanyeol spent so much time holed up in his apartment working from behind his computer screens, that he took every chance he got to be around people. Not to interact, but only to listen and to observe.

He would have his earphones on and his phone in front of his face from where he stood at the very far corner of the train car, but his attention would be on everyone else in there with him.

From the glances some give one another to their body languages, Chanyeol saw all — and he had gotten surprisingly subtle about it as opposed to a few years back.

It’s a skill he thought he didn’t need, but it proved useful when he found himself in situations where he needed to interrogate or extract information he needed from others. He would easily tell whether someone was telling the truth or not, or whether someone was trying to mess with him.

There were a select few he couldn’t read, though. Like Kim Yongnam, when he personally came to him bearing a box and told him to hold onto it for him in his desk’s top drawer. He _did_ take the key to it, and that only showed a lack of trust from Yongnam— which was a first Chanyeol’s ever experienced.

Yongnam has been paying him a large monthly sum to use his top desk drawer as his own personal vault of some sort.

Chanyeol never questioned it because Yongnam was Junmyeon’s uncle, and Junmyeon was particularly fond of him. Besides, they — the Busan Kims, have been using his services since he met Junmyeon about five years prior. His loyalty didn’t specifically lie anywhere, but he had been quite partial to the Kims since he trusted Junmyeon the most.

Junmyeon had tried many times to make it official and to move him up to Busan, but he refused. He knew enough about the underground world not to want to get involved further. He would very much rather stay on the surface, as he didn’t know what would happen if he were to dive in.

He had seen Junmyeon. He had experienced it himself a few times in Busan, and it was bad enough for him to not want to step foot there again unless it was absolutely necessary.

They all knew him there. _“That informant who works with the Kims,”_ or _“The young red-haired informant.”_

Whenever a gang member outside of the Kims spotted him walking in the streets there, they’d glare at him. Some would go as far as reach out for their terribly _hidden_ holsters.

Point being, Chanyeol didn’t want that as a daily occurrence. He had decided to stand out in appearance for others to recognise and fear him, not for low-ranked gangsters to clumsily point their weapons his way.

He had a goal, and it was to find those who brutally murdered his father then left _him_ standing over his slowly deteriorating corpse for what _felt_ like days until his grandfather showed up.

The wound he received on the bridge of his nose that night was now a scar that would never completely fade away, and all that was left in him was vengeance; to seek out those who had done that to his father, and of course, to him. It may have been because he needed answers. Other than why they did this, Chanyeol also wondered why they kept him alive.

Junmyeon, however, constantly tried to persuade him out of it, like he had the night prior after Chanyeol finished his meeting with the KNP inspector. To top it off, Junmyeon clearly left his apartment with more to say.

Chanyeol had a feeling the topic would be brought up again to this late lunch he was about to have with the elder. 

With a roll of his eyes, he entered the hotel they were meeting at. He was underdressed, he realised as he pulled the hood of his jacket down, but Chanyeol never was one to bother with fancy suits, much unlike the people he usually dealt with.

Having been there before multiple times as this was Junmyeon’s favourite restaurant in Seoul, he made a beeline towards it and the two familiar bodyguards standing at the entrance let him straight in.

He couldn’t say he was surprised to find the place empty, save for the one table set for two with Junmyeon sitting there waiting for him.

Junmyeon put the phone he seemed to be preoccupied by right down as soon as he sensed Chanyeol’s presence, and he flashed him a smile when he approached their table.

A waiter pulled the chair out for him and he took a seat.

“Good afternoon, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon said. “I took the liberty to ordering you a steak just the way you like it. I hope you don’t mind,” he added.

Chanyeol waved him off as he sat against the back of the chair. “Not at all. Thanks,” he said.

Before he could say anything else, two other waiters came by and placed their food on the table. Junmyeon waited until they were finished and they were left alone again to resume their conversation.

“You could’ve at least informed the driver I sent that his services weren’t required, you know,” Junmyeon said. “He sounded panicked when I called to check where you were.”

Chanyeol chuckled, the image of a stretched out black car parked right outside his building with its driver chattering away at his phone played in his mind.

“He wasn’t there when I left~” he said.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar,” Junmyeon smiled as he said. He picked up his fork and steak knife and started cutting himself a piece of the delicacy on the plate in front of him.

Chanyeol wouldn’t be too sure about that.

He had to stop himself from smirking, blinking his wide eyes a couple of times with a raise of his brows instead.

“Only to you,” he said as he took his own utensils up between his hands, mimicking Junmyeon.

“Perhaps.”

Chanyeol popped a juicy, perfectly seasoned piece of steak in his mouth. As he chewed, he turned to look at the delicately designed steak knives decorating the entrance of the restaurant, each with the name plate of their owners. They belonged to the more exclusive guests.

His eyes travelled through each name plate till they landed on a familiar one, quickly swallowing what was in his mouth as he turned back to Junmyeon.

“When did _that_ happen?” he asked.

“It happened when you stood me up last month,” Junmyeon said. “I always let you know two weeks in advance but you almost never make time for me when I’m visiting.”

Chanyeol gave a sheepish grin. “Most of my work comes suddenly, you know that,” he said. “And I actually enjoy my job, so…”

“I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have paid so little attention to me yesterday,” Junmyeon said.

As his name became more known, he became more in demand. Chanyeol _hated_ being behind on his work, so he would go through great lengths to stay up to date with each job he would be working on at a time.

He felt a bit bad for Junmyeon. Or at least a very small part of him did. Even the thought of making it up to him was out of the question since he was leaving soon.

“You’re headed back to Busan tonight, right?” Chanyeol asked.

“Yes,” Junmyeon said, picking up his glass and taking a sip of his drink. “As I’m certain you’re already aware, my cousin’s being released tomorrow.”

Kim Minseok. The only son of Kim Yongnam and next in line to take over the business.

The informant hummed as he started cutting another piece of his steak. “The one who had to serve time for gambling because his cop buddies ratted him out,” he said before slipping the loaded fork past his lips.

“There were a few other charges that added a couple of more years to his final sentence,” Junmyeon said, nodding.

Although Chanyeol doubted Yongnam would hand over the company to Minseok after he carelessly got caught for possession _and_ under the influence of illegal substances in the exact location he ran his _illegal_ business.

Not that the Busan Kims were strangers to such illicit activities.

“He’s been there a while, hasn’t he?” Chanyeol asked then he let out a low chuckle. “I look forward to seeing how he’ll adapt to modern society over the next few months.”

Junmyeon laughed a little too hard at that. “It’ll be a complete cultural shock for him!” he said. “Smartphones weren’t even commonly used at the time, were they?”

“I only had one of those flip phones,” Chanyeol said as he looked up in thought. “I remember I even had charms attached to it.”

“Weren’t you only 12 at that time?” Junmyeon asked. “What did you need a phone for?”

“My father gave it to me in case of emergencies,” Chanyeol responded.

Only after the words slipped past his lips did he realise that he opened the same topic he had been hoping to avoid. He quietly placed the cutlery he was gripping on either side of his plate.

He was good.

This wouldn’t be the first time Junmyeon had steered the conversation the way he wanted. It was something he was good at, after all. He wouldn’t be taking care of all the negotiations between the Kims and other groups and representing his uncle in important meetings otherwise.

Chanyeol gave a light smirk and leaned against the back of his chair as he awaited Junmyeon’s next words.

Junmyeon rested his elbows on the tabletop and interlaced his fingers in front of his mouth and nose as he leaned forward.

He sighed. “So you’re really still looking into his murder.”

The informant wanted to roll his eyes, really. Resisting the urge was easy, and he maintained the smug look on his face.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Chanyeol asked. “Seems like you’ve disregarded all the times I told you I wouldn’t rest until I found everyone involved.”

“What if you don’t?” Junmyeon retorted. “Even worse, what if you get yourself killed in the process?” He asked.

Chanyeol softened his features and gradually settled into a frown.

The elder wasn’t wrong to worry about him this much. He had been looking out for him since he stumbled his way into this career path. He had given Chanyeol valuable advice, resources, help, protection, and even comfort whenever he had failed to keep himself out of harm’s way.

And if Chanyeol were to be more honest, he wouldn’t be as respected and feared as he was now if it wasn’t for Junmyeon. He practically put him — and his skills, on the map and gave his information brokering business the kick it needed to get him all the right connections.

But this was just one thing he couldn’t agree with the elder on.

“If they wanted to kill me, they’d have done it already,” Chanyeol said. “10 years ago, to be precise, when they broke into my father’s place and stabbed him to death while I was in my room, wide awake and listening to the entire ordeal.”

“Chanyeol—” Junmyeon tried to say.

“Did I ever tell you they came into my room?” The informant asked.

Junmyeon pressed his lips into a straight line and shook his head.

“I’m pretty sure they were supposed to get rid of me too,” Chanyeol said. “I don’t know why they had a change of plans, and I don’t remember what happened after they found me. I don’t remember their face, and since it’s been such a long fucking time, I don’t think I ever will.”

“It was strange regaining awareness with just a wound on my nose, don’t you think?” he asked. “I’m looking for answers as to why rather than seeking revenge. You know me well enough to know I’m no killer.”

“I know you well enough to know you’d hire someone,” Junmyeon said.

The informant’s smirk is back on his face. “Would that be a problem for you?” he asked.

Junmyeon sighed, seemingly resigned from this argument.

“Just be careful, okay?” Junmyeon said. “And try not to get involved with the wrong people.”

“But of course!” Chanyeol said.

——————

With a click of his tongue, Chanyeol got off his swivel chair and walked to the control panel he had at the other end of the living room.

It was almost midnight and he had plenty of work that he wanted to finish before retiring to his bedroom or, more accurately, collapsing on his couch for a couple of hours.

The heavy rain splashing against the floor to ceiling windows behind him, the sudden, slightly muffled, claps of thunder ringing against his ears, and the occasional lightning flashes washing over his dimly lit living room, all served to disrupt the quiet atmosphere he preferred to work in and tested his usually unwearied patience.

And he may have finally ran out, because although he enjoyed working and turning to look at the view below every now and then to gather his thoughts, he wanted nothing more than for both his outer shutters and inner blinds to shield his apartment from the noise and visual distractions that came with the storm.

He sensed it wouldn’t do much to revive the concentration he had garnered prior to the storm, but it was something.

For the time being, he needed his last cup of coffee for the day. He made sure to grab his phone before he dragged his legs to the kitchen.

Chanyeol switched on his electric kettle and grabbed one of the cups he had cleaned earlier and left to dry near the sink, along with one of his drip bag coffee sachets. He carefully positioned it on his cup and waited for the water to finish heating up while browsing through his phone.

When he finally finished preparing his coffee, he carefully took the cup and headed back to his desk.

After he got comfortable on his chair, he took his first sip and stretched his arms after he placed it back near his keyboard.

This wasn’t supposed to take so long. It was just a file of a man’s recent movements. If it wasn’t for his long lunch with Junmyeon, he would have been done and already asleep.

Junmyeon’s attempts at persuading him to drop looking for his father’s murderers had only started intensifying when Chanyeol steered his search towards Kim Yongnam.

The question was, why was he doing that? Could it be that the one he had been searching for was right in front of him all along? Yongnam may not have been in Seoul at the time of his father’s murder, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have arranged for it to happen

Even so, it didn’t matter to Chanyeol if Yongnam was just the mastermind behind it. He would hunt down every single one of the men he sent that night, then go after him.

He just needed more proof. He needed to find the motive. He needed to know why _he_ was left behind.

Chanyeol sighed. Maybe he could stop taking these side jobs from regular clients for a while and just focus on his personal vendetta. He had been working on this for about five years and he had never felt as closer to the right path as he did at the moment.

That would definitely work well for him. He could focus all his energy on it, no distractions whatsoever. He had all the means and contacts with the right people he needed now, so he couldn’t think of a way this could go wrong if he didn’t give it his all.

It was settled, then. Chanyeol just needed to finish this last job, then he would turn his work phone off for a while to resolve this once and for all.

He was startled by a sudden clap of thunder and said work phone vibrating on his side desk near his personal laptop.

Chanyeol picked it up to look at the caller ID, which unsurprisingly enough, read _unknown_.

Great.

He slid his thumb across his screen and brought the phone up against his ear.

“Good evening~” he said, tone laced with professionalism.

_“Park Chanyeol?”_ A rather soft, yet firm voice spoke through the other end of the call.

“Speaking,” Chanyeol answered. “Who’s asking?”

_“This is Byun Baekhyun.”_

Chanyeol couldn’t stop his body from briefly shivering out of excitement at the name.

Byun Baekhyun — the youngest gang leader in Busan at the age of 28, as well as one of the most influential ones, picking up the phone and dialling Chanyeol’s number _himself._

Chanyeol was familiar with the last name but knew little to nothing about Baekhyun himself because of the low profile the other kept. He also never thought Baekhyun would _directly_ contact him for a job, as he was certain he would have people he trusted more to get this kind of work done for him.

This was also the second time he had been approached by a gang leader from Busan.Usually, it would be the leader’s right hand man or a representative.

Just how many people had he pissed off in that city to receive such special treatment?

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Byun?” Chanyeol asked.

_“I’m calling to schedule a meeting,”_ Baekhyun responded, skipping the formalities.

It was as if he sensed what had gone on in Chanyeol’s mind mere seconds before the call. In no way would Chanyeol _not_ be intrigued by this. Why on earth would the leader of the Byuns himself contact him to set up a _meeting?_

As if he had forgotten the plan he went over with himself moments before the call, Chanyeol responded.

“Are you in Seoul right now?” he asked, allowing the amusement he felt to slip into his voice.

Baekhyun took a moment before answering Chanyeol’s question, and it only served to widen the smirk on Chanyeol’s face.

_“I will be for the next three days,”_ the other said. _“Any time would be suitable for me.”_

He didn’t even give a chance for Chanyeol to pretend he was occupied with other clients and thus too busy for him like he usually did with everyone else who called him out of the blue.

Chanyeol, however, knew that Byun Baekhyun wasn’t amongst the long list of clients he should do that to.

“Alright,” Chanyeol said, glancing at the calendar he had opened up on his computer screen. “I’ll text you the details. Can you give me a number?”

The informant typed the number in the first available space he could click on in his desktop calendar. Baekhyun ended the call without waiting for his response.

Something told him this was going to be more interesting and worthwhile than anything he had done recently.

Maybe he could spare some time for one more job before he closed up shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> orihara izaya from durarara!! was a huge inspiration in creating both chanyeol and baekhyun's characters here, i love him a bit too much
> 
> if you have a moment to spare, please comment and let me know what you think 🥺 thank you for reading!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chanyeol meets baekhyun and makes a decision on whether he should take the job or not (¬‿¬ )
> 
> please enjoy!! ♡

Needless to say, Chanyeol had an energy spike after that phone call with Byun Baekhyun.

The informant abandoned his work completely and spontaneously started a new profile he was never asked to make, nor did he _need_ to make. Because to be fair, it didn’t hurt to get to know the powerful man he was about to have a meeting scheduled in a rush with.

So he spent his night and the start of his morning pulling up some favours here and there, gathering as much as he could about Baekhyun.

For the second time since his father’s case, he was faced with another mystery. Perhaps he had spent too much time on his father’s case, because not finding any information on the Byun only served as motivation for him to dig deeper throughout the night to the point that he used up most of the favours he had been holding on to.

All he was able to find in approximately 10 discontinuous hours worth of work, was basic information about the young COO, such as the restaurants, bars, and cafés he frequented, and the gym he worked out in— as well as the name of his personal trainer. He gathered lists of a few other things, such as ones for the buildings, clubs, and hotel branches his family owned.

Most of what Chanyeol found was related to how the Byun family empire started with Baekhyun’s grandfather’s hotel franchise in South Korea. Then his father Yeonseok and his uncle started getting into more illicit activities as Baekhyun’s uncle took over. He eventually got himself killed due to his recklessness, and Yeonseok succeeded him in the ‘80s.

Baekhyun’s father retired as CEO and handed the position to his older son, Baekbeom while Baekhyun took over as COO. He had taken the initiative to legalise their family empire once more, but was killed by his own underlings who didn’t agree with his ways— at least that was how his death was ruled out.

That was the year prior, and his father has since come out of retirement to take over as CEO of the Byun Group whilst handing over the syndicate for Baekhyun to lead. He had since slowly worked his way through restoring some of the Byun family’s illegal activities.

In conclusion, he couldn’t find anything he could make use of in preparation for his meeting with Baekhyun the following day.

Chanyeol flipped his body to lay on the other side of his bed, sighing. He had been waiting for sleep to kick in for the past couple of hours, but his body had yet to give in to the fatigue he felt.

He wasn’t as nervous about blindly going into this meeting as he was intrigued about what the Byun wanted from him. After all, nothing interesting had happened to him since Kim Yongnam personally came to him for a job.

Truthfully, Chanyeol hated working closely alongside the mafia like he had for Junmyeon whenever he would take him to Busan for specific jobs. He had gotten physically injured on several occasions due to meetings gone wrong, and those weren’t particularly fun experiences.

Still, he couldn’t deny the rush those jobs brought, even with the most basic ones given to him by Junmyeon over the years.

He couldn’t resist the temptations of the underground world, as much as he tried to. Though the informant knew well enough that it wouldn’t end well if he so much as dipped his toenail into it.

Chanyeol sighed, moving to lay on his back. His eyes traced the bland ceiling above his bed as he thought about the things he had to do when he actually _woke up_.

With the realisation that staying in bed like that wouldn’t get him anywhere, Chanyeol kicked his duvet away from his body and scrambled about until he was free from its confines.

If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well get a head start to his day.

So he went on about his day as planned. He went down to the café across the street from his building for breakfast and his mandatory cup of coffee, then crawled back to his office to continue working on the insanely boring job he had to complete before his meeting with Byun Baekhyun.

And as he sat on his desk, his braincells slowly but surely died at how many times his target visited his client’s wife in their own _home_ over the past couple of years without his client ever taking notice.

He couldn’t have been so utterly _oblivious_ to the situation. Otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense why he suddenly decided to care who his wife was sleeping with.

Chanyeol let out a sigh of relief as he finally reached the end of his report. He glanced at the time, groaning as he realised how much of it this ridiculous job took up. He should consider upping his prices for these kind of clients because they certainly weren’t worth his time.

It was already nighttime, and he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Chanyeol yawned, then frowned at the fact that he couldn’t even sleep in because his meeting with Baekhyun was scheduled for the afternoon.

He still needed to print and organise the report in a file and let his client know he was done, but he would do that after the meeting he was looking forward to.

After he shut down his computer for the night, he cleared his desk up a little and took his empty cups of coffee back to the kitchen and placed them in the sink. He could wash those tomorrow, as sleep was a bigger priority at that moment.

Chanyeol crawled his way to his room and threw himself in bed. He made sure to set up alarms before the promised time so he could have time to tidy up a little before the COO’s visit.

Just the thought of it gave him chills, even in his fatigued state.

He _really_ couldn’t wait.

——————

Chanyeol had woken up ahead of his alarm that morning, so he was quite startled as the blaring rang from his pocket while he was cleaning up.

He took a deep breath to ease his racing heart.

It was almost noon.

The apartment was in good shape, he looked as presentable as he cared enough to be, and a glass pot of recently brewed coffee awaited his guest and possibly future client’s arrival

Chanyeol couldn’t understand why he was nervous about this. It was just another client—another _job_. Nothing more, nothing less. But that was exactly the reason he couldn’t understand where the nerves were coming from.

Maybe it was the thrill of not knowing anything about the one he was about to deal with. The mystery of it all had done well to keep him on his feet since Byun Baekhyun had called him a couple of days before.

He took his phone out of his pocket to check the time to see that it was already noon. The hours had passed by fast as he cleaned with plenty on his mind.

Any second now. He had already notified the concierge and receptionists downstairs of his client’s visit and that they should let him in and send him up immediately.

The COO’s arrival time would at least determine one thing about his personality, which Chanyeol had already been wondering about.

Chanyeol put his phone back in his pocket and started walking towards his desk. He stopped in his tracks when he heard the ding of the elevator and he braced himself.

Whenever he was with a client, he made sure the mask he had worked so hard to form was on. Not even once had he greeted a client or a potential client without it. In fact, only Junmyeon saw him without it.

A trained smile, not too gentle and not too friendly, found its place on his lips, stretching out to the rest of his features for added sincerity. Coupled with his way with words, it was sure to give clients enough comfort around him to confide in him.

He turned around and walked towards the elevator, and he was met with the man he had seen in the photos he had searched up a few days prior, clad in an all-black suit minus the tie, making him look as young as he was; in contrast to all other men in the same profession.

Byun Baekhyun, in the flesh, was coupled with a bodyguard slightly taller than the COO himself.

A sense of familiarity overcame Chanyeol the moment their eyes met. He must have looked at one too many pictures of Baekhyun when he was searching him up because it felt like he knew him personally.

“Welcome, Mr. Byun,” Chanyeol said.

Chanyeol got closer— and practically towered the short COO— to extend his hand in greeting.

Baekhyun seemed indifferent to Chanyeol, but extended his hand in reciprocation.

“A pleasure finally meeting you, Park Chanyeol,” he said.

Simple and brief; straight to the point.

“Likewise,” Chanyeol said. “Would you like to follow me inside?” he asked.

Baekhyun gave a light nod and Chanyeol gestured for him to go on ahead of him, and he did, while his bodyguard stayed behind near the elevator.

They reached the living room and Chanyeol sat the COO down on one of the sofas, then he walked into his kitchen to pour some of that coffee he brewed earlier into a cup. He also grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator before heading back to Baekhyun.

“I hope the coffee’s to your liking,” Chanyeol said as he set both down on the table in front of Baekhyun, then he took a seat on the sofa across from him.

Baekhyun thanked him and picked up the cup, taking a sip then setting it back down.

“Shall we get started, then?” Baekhyun said.

“Of course,” Chanyeol said. “What is it that you wanted to meet with me about?”

Baekhyun got comfortable and sat back, crossing one leg atop the other with his fingers interlaced across his abdomen.

He seemed confident that he had come to the right place and person, and that Chanyeol would accept whatever proposition he was about to make.

“It’s a job offer,” Baekhyun simply stated.

Chanyeol tilted his head slightly to the side. “What kind?”

It was a silly question. He knew people only sought him out for specific types of jobs. Although coming from such a powerful and esteemed family, he thought Baekhyun would have people of the same profession particularly devoted to the Byuns.

“Someone betrayed me and I need to know who.”

So _that_ was why he came to Chanyeol.

An inside job, meaning it could’ve been anyone. _Including_ his own supposedly loyal informants.

Strange he came to Chanyeol of all informants though, since there was no way he hadn’t known of his affiliation to the Kims.

Nonetheless, Chanyeol was amused. He rested his back on the couch’s cushions and his elbow on the pillow next to him.

“You _personally_ came all the way to Seoul just to ask me to fish someone out?” he asked, fighting back the smirk threatening to form on his lips.

“Did I inconvenience you in any way?” Baekhyun asked back. “I was around, so I thought I might as well introduce myself and get to know the informant I’m considering exposing personal information about my organisation to.”

“Not at all,” the informant said, turning the smirk into a smile and flashing it towards the other. “And you do have a point. I’d have done the same.”

“Good,” Baekhyun said. “There’s a few conditions, though. I assume you understand that there’s going to be a lot of private information about the Byuns involved.”

Chanyeol nodded. “Of course. In case you have any concerns, you should know I have policies of my own in which I’m not to disclose any and all information obtained through jobs of this nature.”

“So I’ve heard,” he said. “But as part of the extra measures I want to take in ensuring that, I’m going to need you to work from a computer I’ve personally set up for you in one of my buildings back in Busan.”

So he also wanted to monitor everything Chanyeol found. But why there? Surely he could arrange for that right here in Seoul.

The informant frowned. “Busan?” he questioned.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Baekhyun asked.

Chanyeol kept an eye on him and didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t need to see through the disciplined expression on his face to sense the delight Baekhyun must have been feeling at that moment.

Something told Chanyeol that Baekhyun knew exactly what his answer would be.

Yes, it _would_ pose as a problem if he had to work in Busan. The request itself was strange, and although Chanyeol had never received such a working condition before, he understood why the Byun had set it as one. Especially since he was an informant who had never worked for him before.

Baekhyun didn’t trust Chanyeol. And as usual, the idea of someone not trusting him right away didn’t sit well with him.

Even so, he couldn’t work in Busan. Not after having experienced first hand how bad it could get there between the three dominating crime syndicates.

Baekhyun detangled his long, slender fingers and moved his left hand up to frame one side of his face.

His sleeve slid down to reveal the black ink on his wrist— the infamous half geometric and half realistic Siberian Husky; a symbol that represented all members of the Byun Group. Any size and place on the body was fine, as long as they had it there as a constant reminder of where they belonged and where their loyalty lied.

The irony.

“Well?” Baekhyun asked.

Chanyeol’s eyes travelled back up to look directly at Baekhyun, taking note of the faint glint of amusement his droopy eyes let on.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need some time to think about it,” Chanyeol finally said.

“I figured you would say that,” Baekhyun said. “Look, on top of the generous amounts of money I’ll be giving you as an advance payment and upon completion, I’m offering you accommodation at a fully equipped apartment, as well as 24 hour protection from the moment you step out of your home, till the moment you get back here in exchange for your services.”

“I’ll also be willing to compensate for all the other jobs you’ll be losing upon taking this offer,” Baekhyun added. “All you have to do is find those who betrayed my older brother and severed his head.”

“I need you there so you can get an unbiased feel of everyone working under me. I know I’ve got some old snakes with higher ranking positions than they deserve to be at, and I know they’ve each got their own set of devoted men who would do just about anything for them, even if it went against the very organisation they belong to,” Baekhyun said. “So it would be best for you to personally meet them and dig through every corner of their pasts to find out which one did my older brother dirty.”

“And you can do whatever you want with the information you find on them, on the condition that it doesn’t jeopardize the life of another who’s got nothing to do with this. I personally know several people who would pay good money for whatever you find.”

Chanyeol looked away. On the one hand, it sounded exciting. Byun Baekhyun was about to pay him to do the two things he loved simultaneously; observing people and reading their every move, then creating profiles on them.

Although those were a mere bonus compared to the fact that he was going to be around the young COO himself. He would get to observe the mystery that is _the_ Byun Baekhyun and watch this possible revenge plot unfold from the best seat available— better yet, he would be pulling _some_ of the strings himself.

On the other hand, he _loathed_ being in that city. The feeling definitely trumped whatever thrill he initially felt while Baekhyun was explaining the job in more detail.

Just as he was about to say something in response, he saw Baekhyun get up and start dusting off his suit, tidying himself up a bit.

“I’ll give you a few days to consider the offer,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol stood on the other side of the coffee table between them, and extended his hand to the other. “I’ll definitely get back to you,” he said as Baekhyun shook his hand. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Byun.”

“Thank you for seeing me,” Baekhyun said as he dropped his hand.

Baekhyun started walking back to the corridor that led to the elevator, and Chanyeol followed to see him out properly.

His bodyguard greeted him there and called the elevator up for him.

It was too quiet for Chanyeol’s comfort, and he almost started fidgeting as they waited for what seemed like forever till the elevator got to the top floor.

Chanyeol gestured for both of them to enter the elevator, and bowed as he saw them off.

Before the elevator door closed, Baekhyun’s voice rang once more.

“Who knows?” he asked, and Chanyeol’s head whipped up quickly to hear what he had to say. His eyes lingered on the smirk on Baekhyun’s lips.

_“You_ might finally find those you’ve been searching for all this time.”

Chanyeol couldn’t say anything in response, as the elevator doors closed along with the ding of the elevator, and it was past the point to attempt to call it back up.

He couldn’t have said anything, anyway, as he had never been as tongue-tied as he was at the moment, not ever since he got into this line of work.

——————

Even to a 12 year old, something about it didn’t add up.

A crime like that seemed more personal and planned compared with a robbery or a random home invasion. Besides, the building his father used to live in was as secure as a building could get at that time.

His father was clearly targeted and he had so many questions. Who was the mastermind behind the whole thing? Did they get their own hands dirty or did they send someone else to do it for them? Why did they do it? Why did they leave his corpse there to rot rather than get rid of it and cover up their crime entirely? And most importantly, why didn’t they get rid of _him_ as well?

Those who murdered his father managed to leave little to nothing behind to trace back to them, so they must have been professionals. How could they afford to leave a witness behind?

Not for a second did Chanyeol think it was because they thought he was a kid and no one would believe him even if he personally pointed them out.

If only it was that easy, though. The experience had traumatized him enough for his brain to shut down at a certain point, so he couldn’t remember anything after he heard the sharp blade of a knife repeatedly go through his father’s flesh in the deafening silence of the apartment; and the muffled groans of pain his father let out as he was viciously stabbed to death.

Given the way their tracks were completely erased though, he figured one of the two could have pulled off the job without having the police on their asses; the government or someone affiliated, or the mob. He had seen first hand of what people who hold a great deal of power would do through Junmyeon, since he dealt with them a lot.

Which raised questions regarding his father, and there was only so much he could learn himself through his current means. What could he have done to make people come after him? Was it his job? What _did_ his father do for a living, anyway? Because depending on what it was, he could have angered the wrong person or group of people.

Although no matter how much Chanyeol racked his brain, he couldn’t think of one crime group in Seoul that could have pulled off such a job. There weren’t that many in the city to begin with— and those that were stupid enough to set up their base of operations in Seoul, Chanyeol couldn’t even take seriously enough to suspect.

Their lack of professionalism whenever they came to him for jobs proved as much.

Perhaps his father was one of those who established a crime organisation based in Seoul and that’s what eventually got him killed. But was he some kind of dealer? Drugs? Arms? Anything was plausible at this point.

It crossed Chanyeol’s mind that he could have been in the same line of business as himself, but he put that idea to the side a while ago and never got back to it. Thinking about it now, it could explain how he could live in luxury _and_ had enough to provide for his parents’ living situation as well as Chanyeol’s livelihood and education. It would explain how Chanyeol’s grandparents never had to lift a finger but were still able to give him anything he wanted as a child. It would _especially_ explain how he couldn’t live with his father.

And maybe that was why Chanyeol couldn’t find any intel on his father no matter how much he searched and despite hiring one of, if not _the_ best, hacker in the country.

Chanyeol blinked at the sound of his phone chiming a few times and he immediately brought his hand down, away from the scar on the bridge of his nose. He was sure he would have started digging at it with his nail if he hadn’t taken his hand away soon enough.

He had spent his entire day sitting idly on his swivel chair, facing the thick layer of glass that gave him the best view of Songpa’s night sky. He had long since finished all the jobs he put on hold when he took up the one for the KNP, and he hadn’t taken anything new for a while.

The informant cleared his schedule as if his conscience already accepted Baekhyun’s job offer, but the rest of him begged to differ.

It’s been almost a week since Baekhyun showed up at his apartment, and he hasn’t contacted him since— neither to let him know of his approval nor to decline the offer.

Deciding whether to take on a job or not had never taken him more than two minutes upon receiving the request. Normally, he would have declined such an offer, but Baekhyun’s parting words left him feeling uncertain for the first time in a while.

_“You might finally find those you’ve been searching for all this time.”_

Surely that was meant to insinuate that he either knew something or that he was involved. It could have meant that he was able to read beyond what Chanyeol always let on to others— or simply that he was desperately searching for something, but it was less likely than the former possibilities. Unless Chanyeol wasn’t as smooth about hiding it as he always thought he was.

Either way, Chanyeol was still unwilling. The risks that came with working for the mafia were bad enough without the added risks that came with working for the mafia in _Busan_. That city was practically built around organised crime since the rise of it.

Like he had said many times to Junmyeon whenever he tried to persuade him to become the Kims’ exclusive informant: working with the mafia never ended well for anyone. He would always respond with something along the lines of _“that only happened to those who didn’t have the right people under or around them.”_

That didn’t matter for Byun Baekbeom or those before him, though.

What didn’t help was that Chanyeol had worked hard to become as well-known as he was now, so much that he could get himself killed just by walking through the streets of specific districts in the city. And Chanyeol had no intentions to die before finding the ones he had been searching for _for_ nearly a decade.

He still couldn’t help but think about the possibility of the information Baekhyun could be withholding and how much the smallest, most insignificant piece of information about or revolving around his father could be of help to his case at that moment.

So despite the conflict he had wasted so much time having with himself over the past week, he knew he only had one choice. He knew his curiosity would get the best of him eventually.

Chanyeol easily located his phone on his desk and grabbed it. He quickly unlocked it and searched through his messages for the conversation he had left on read four days prior.

**From Unknown:**

Have you decided?

Chanyeol took a deep breath, letting it out as he typed his long overdue response.

**To Unknown:**

Yeah

——————

Chanyeol hadn’t even fully stepped out of the train and into the platform when thoughts of how much he hated the city flooded his mind— which, of course, threw walking to where he knew Baekhyun was at the moment out of the equation.

He wasn’t one to take risks, not in Busan and _especially_ not in a district that was heavily under the control of the Byuns, and where he was once almost shot. At least in the Kims’ territories, he was known and somewhat respected.

Dragging his a tad too heavy luggage beside him, he made his way through Busan station to the exact exit Baekhyun had directed him to prior to his arrival, where a car was to pick him up.

He stopped and let go of his luggage momentarily to lower the black cap he was wearing and bring his hood up to rest on his head. Then he proceeded his way through the station.

As he got to the parking lot, he spotted the only man that looked like he would have been waiting for him standing in front of the back door of a pitch black car with shaded windows all around. Chanyeol stopped quite the distance away from him, analysing whether he should approach him first or not.

The older man definitely looked the part; he had the correct build, the tan— either from being someone else’s personal driver and spending long periods of time waiting for his employer so that he could open the door for him, or from working in the port when he wasn’t driving someone around— and most importantly, the sunglasses coupled with that specific stance he took, hands atop one another in front of his lower stomach and legs slightly apart.

It was Chanyeol’s agitation about being in Busan that stopped him from taking any farther steps ahead, enough to look like he was waiting for or looking for someone else. He needed to confirm that this man was the one before approaching him or getting in the car with him.

Chanyeol watched him for a bit, thankful his own sunglasses concealed the direction of his gaze, but kept moving his head left and right to pretend he was looking around.

And it wasn’t until the man lifted the hand that sat on top his other to fix up the necktie he was wearing that Chanyeol’s suspicions about him were confirmed.

On the back of the man’s other hand was the exact tattoo he saw on Byun Baekhyun’s wrist almost two weeks ago now, the realisation of it making one corner of Chanyeol’s lips curve up.

He walked towards the driver, who asked his name out loud. Chanyeol nodded once in response before the man opened the door to the back seat, and Chanyeol took his time getting inside. The driver took his bag and loaded it in the trunk before getting into his own seat and taking off.

Chanyeol had emphasized his dislike for car rides enough, but he would rather be confined in a car than walking outside— with _baggage,_ nonetheless.

It was dull staring out the window at basically nothing for too long, so he kept himself busy on his phone. As far as he knew, it wasn’t supposed to take long to get to Nam-gu, where Baekhyun currently was, from Dong-gu, but the traffic in cities made any short ride take about three times longer— sometimes more.

He dropped his personal phone on his lap when his work phone gave one short buzz, indicating a new message.

**From Unknown:**

I take it you’ve arrived in Busan safely. I’ll be meeting you first to explain things in more detail before showing you where you’ll be staying throughout.

Chanyeol couldn’t find a proper response to his message, as he already guessed this would be the case. So he just typed out a short agreement before putting his phone back in his pocket and yawned.

The first thing he would be doing after Baekhyun had showed him to his accommodation was sleep— unless of course, he found something more interesting to do.

He spent the rest of the drive browsing different social media on his phone, and reading through various chatrooms discussing the happenings of the city he detested, just to keep an eye out for any kind of situations he should avoid.

Upon their arrival to a modern-looking apartment building— as expected of the Byuns— in the heart of the city, the driver came out and opened the door for him, then proceeded to take out his luggage and walk him in the building.

They entered the elevator together, after the driver ushered him in, and he inserted a key before pressing two of the buttons on the panel located on the side.

“I was instructed to take your luggage up to your accommodation,” the driver turned to him and extended both of his hands with a bow. “Here is my card. If there is anything you may need throughout your stay here, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

Chanyeol nodded and took the card while flashing a friendly smile to the other, immediately shoving it in his pocket.

Once the elevator stopped at the lower level of the two, the driver held it open.

“Mr. Byun will be meeting with you here.”

The informant thanked him and stepped out, then waited for the elevator doors to close again before he took his cap off and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it look acceptable.

He took a moment to look around the area he was in. It looked similar to the lobby he had walked through in the ground floor to get to the elevator, yet it somehow gave off a feeling that he was in an entirely different building.

Chanyeol started walking farther inside, eyes scanning the room.

Beyond the small lobby-like area decorated in black and white furniture, there was ashort dimly lit hallway with doors on either side that ended with a large set of double doors at the front.

The informant considered just walking up to the clearly mapped direction of where he was supposed to meet the COO, but walked back to one of the sofas and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.

He took his phone out and sent a quick message to Baekhyun that he had arrived, and waited there instead.

A few minutes passed by before a door opened and shut closed, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps against the ceramic floor. Chanyeol didn’t bother turning to his side to see who it was before they announced themselves.

“Mr. Park?” A deep voice spoke.

With a smile on his face, Chanyeol stood up to greet the other.

Stood in front of him was a man slightly shorter and more built than Baekhyun, and Chanyeol immediately recognised him as the Byun Group’s executive vice president and Baekhyun’s right hand man, as well as the Byun family’s _vulnerability,_ Do Kyungsoo.

Just as he knew they’ve done their research on him prior to seeking him out for the job, he wanted them to know that he came prepared as well and that he had already done his own research after he had accepted the job.

“Mr. Do,” Chanyeol extended a hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure. Please call me Chanyeol, I’m not into this whole formality thing.”

Kyungsoo shook hands with him and gave him a light smile. “Please follow me inside, Mr. Byun has been anticipating you,” he said, gesturing down the hall.

Chanyeol followed.

He learned what he could about each of those who worked around and closely with the Byuns, but it was mostly from public sources, so it wasn’t much.

The most important thing he had found about Kyungsoo was that he was _extremely_ good at his job— _both_ jobs. The only other important thing he found that he could actually use, he did through a favour Strike owed him. And he couldn’t wait for the chance for him to flaunt his abilities and contacts off to the Byuns.

Once they made it to the double doors, he entered ahead of Kyungsoo while the latter closed the doors behind him.

Rays of light illuminated the spacious room past the floor to ceiling windows and curtains, forcing Chanyeol to squint his eyes as they tried to readjust to the brightness, contrasting that of the previous room he was in.

From the looks of the place, this was Baekhyun’s main office— just not related to the work he did as the president of the Byun Group, which he was sure was located at a more legitimate establishment. 

Baekhyun was sitting on one of the sofas in front of his desk, his legs crossed in the same manner as when they first met back in Seoul. On the coffee table in front of him sat a thick stack of papers, which Chanyeol assumed to be a hardcopy of the contract Baekhyun had crafted for him to formally take on this job.

After Chanyeol had sent Baekhyun the message accepting his business proposal, he had been sent an email with instructions and a large PDF file containing the agreement. Chanyeol made sure to read it over three times before making this long trip.

That didn’t mean he didn’t have some doubts about some of the written conditions, though. And he wasn’t about to sign before making sure of everything.

Baekhyun turned his head slightly to look at Chanyeol. “I’m glad you could make it on such short notice,” he said. “Have a seat.”

Chanyeol walked further into the room with Kyungsoo not too far behind until he was sat across from Baekhyun, while the vice president sat next to him. He properly greeted him before they started discussing why he came all the way here.

“As I’m sure you know, the Byun Group owns this building, as is the case with every other building in this residential area,” Baekhyun started. “So you don’t have to worry about security in terms of… _turf—_ for lack of a better word.”

“I’m not, but thank you for the reassurance,” Chanyeol said with a smile.

Baekhyun leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. “Hmm… my sources have told me otherwise,” he said, sounding slightly amused. “Aren’t you on bad terms with the entirety of Song Corporation and part of Kim Industries?

Chanyeol simply shook his head. “I may have pissed some of them off and they may or may not want me dead, yes,” he said. “But I’m not worried because the terms in our contract promised to prioritize my safety, and I trust you’ll keep your end.”

With a nod of his head to affirm Chanyeol’s statement, Baekhyun smiled. “I see you’ve read the clauses carefully,” he said.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have come all the way here to accept and sign otherwise,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun smirked. “Good. So you’re in complete agreement with everything mentioned?” he asked.

“I do have one question, actually,” Chanyeol said. “I’m sure you already know of my affiliations with the Kims, so I’m wondering why you chose me for the job. Especially since there’s as much possibility of this being an outside job as there is of it being an inside one.”

“Are you asking us to doubt you, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asked.

The informant chuckled. “You wouldn’t have sought me out if you doubted my ethics.”

Baekhyun hummed in agreement. “I told you I needed someone unbiased, so I couldn’t hire any of the company’s informants,” he said. “As for your association with the Kims, I’ve had no reason to suspect their involvement thus far, so I have no worries in regards to that. Although I may be wrong about that and that’s why the contract for this job is as it is— why it forbids you from interacting with any of the Kim members without my or Kyungsoo’s presence.”

“I’m certain this was what you meant to ask about,”Baekhyun added.

Chanyeol could clearly see the difference in experience between Baekhyun and himself. Although catching people off guard or reading them beyond what they were letting on was a forte of the informant’s, Baekhyun’s abilities were superior to his.

Something about being at a disadvantage in those terms excited Chanyeol; as if he had finally found worthy adversary in the game he enjoyed playing.

And even though he knew Baekhyun would see right through him, he would keep feigning innocence.

“Yes, actually.” Chanyeol said. “I’ll be sure to avoid the Kims at all costs, then.”

“Good,” Baekhyun said as he pushed the papers on the coffee table between them towards Chanyeol, along with a pen he took out of his suit jacket’s pocket. “So, have we got ourselves a deal?”

“We do,” Chanyeol said as he took the pen and signed as instructed by Kyungsoo.

Once he was done, Baekhyun slid over an envelope almost as thick as the contract. “Here’s the down payment I promised.”

Chanyeol took the envelope and left it hanging between his fingers. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo eyed him curiously, but didn’t ask whether he was going to check it to confirm the amount or not, unlike all his other clients.

He truly didn’t care about the amount of money he earned through these jobs, as he already had enough to live comfortably for a lifetime.

“Now that that’s done with, there are three men you’ll be investigating,” Baekhyun said then looked at Kyungsoo, gesturing for him to carry on.

“Executive managing director, Lee Kangmin,” Kyungsoo said, placing one of the thin folders he had on his lap on the table. “He was a regular at one of our gambling rooms, and we have reason to believe that he wasn’t fond of Byun Baekbeom’s decision to close those down.”

Chanyeol grabs the folder and flips through it. There isn’t much information other than a basic profile on the man and a few pictures, but it was enough for him to build up on if he had access to the right resources.

“That was enough for you to suspect him for murder?” Chanyeol asked.

“We’ve found logs of him gambling with the Kims when my brother took over and shut the rooms down,” Baekhyun answered.

Chanyeol raised a brow. “Doesn’t that make the Kims involved?” 

“It makes Lee Kangmin involved with a group he didn’t swear loyalty to,” Kyungsoo said.

“So we’re essentially dealing with a potential traitor who didn’t like how things turnedout when your brother took over,” Chanyeol concluded.

Baekhyun nodded.

Kyungsoo placed another one of the folders on the coffee table, bending a little to push it towards Chanyeol.

“Byun Group director Jung Hosung. Similar case with his drug addiction. He took his dealings to the Kims as well.”

Chanyeol briefly flipped through his folder, and, likewise, it only contained basic information.

When he didn’t say anything in regards to that, Kyungsoo slid over the last folder, and Chanyeol closed Jung Hosung’s and started flipping through the last one, which was slightly thicker than the other two.

“Hwang Sungil is a general manager at the company. He’s seeing Song Daewon’s daughter,” Kyungsoo said.

Chanyeol immediately recognised the name. “As in chairman of Song Corp?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said. “Hwang Sungil appears diligent and hardworking, but we have our doubts about other things. If anything, we believe he’s more likely to have done it than the other two, but it’s best to be safe.”

“He’s the type to keep his hands clean and rely on his men to do the dirty work for him,” Baekhyun added. “I’ve always sensed something was off whenever I spoke to him, because it seemed too good to be true to have someone as dedicated as he is _and_ for him to have the cleanest slate in this line of work.”

“I just don’t trust him,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol closed the folder and laid it out on top of the other two on his lap. He needed more sleep before he could process all the information he had just attained, and he needed a strategy on how to go on about this job.

He had done work like this before. It’s a simple profile building through gathering information from private sources kind of job, on top of investigating and watching the suspects to get a better read. Then creating a timeline of those movements on the night the murder took place.  
  
Depending on how careful those three men had been, this entire job could take a while, even without the distractions of other jobs, meetings, and of course, university. He may need to take the semester off cause he doubted he would be able to finish in time for his exams.

That could wait, though. This was far more important, intriguing and rewarding than getting a degree.

“Where am I gonna to be working from?” Chanyeol said, getting completely comfortable with his clients. “I wanna get started as soon as I can. I hate this city and I don’t wanna prolong my stay here~ no offence!”

No eyebrows were raised at his behaviour, which was a first for Chanyeol.

“We’ll get to that soon,” Baekhyun said. “I just want to remind you that everything you obtain, hear, or are told, is _confidential_ and I trust that it would stay that way, Chanyeol. Should you wish to use any of it for any reason, bring it to me and I’ll decide whether it would be okay or not.”

Chanyeol smiled. “I understand. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I better not,” Baekhyun said. “There’ll be opportunities for you to interact with the three suspects, in which your safety might be at risk. Just in case Kyungsoo gets preoccupied or is unable to protect you, are you capable of shooting a gun?”

The informant almost frowned. Almost.

It was stated in the contract that he would have to interact with dangerous people to do this job, but it also stated that he would be under the Byun Group’s protection at all times. However, it didn’t state anywhere that Do Kyungsoo would be the only one providing that for him.

Junmyeon taught him how to shoot a gun and gave him one to keep himself safe just in case, but he never had to use it and eventually forgot about it in his bottom desk drawer. He considered bringing it for this trip, but opted only for the switchblade he usually kept in his pocket and also never used.

“At risk as in, I might die?” Chanyeol asked.

“I guarantee you that won’t happen. Kyungsoo here will keep you company at all times,” Baekhyun said.

Kyungsoo nodded. “I’m not sure when this was decided, but I’ll be with you every time you need to leave the building for business,” he said.

For a millisecond, Chanyeol saw a smile on Baekhyun’s lips before it disappeared completely, erasing any traces of even a curve.

It sent a shiver down Chanyeol’s spine and he had to control his body from any involuntary movements. Was that a glimpse of what was to come?

He had a feeling he would be seeing more of that, so he brushed it off for now.

“Okay, I trust you both to keep your end.” Chanyeol decided.

The informant didn’t sense a change in the atmosphere, it was as if they were already anticipating this before he even walked in or they were just that good at concealing their emotions.

“Kyungsoo will show you to where you’ll be staying. You have my number if you need anything,” Baekhyun said as he got off the sofa and started walking to his desk.

“What if I need something you can’t give me through the phone?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun stopped walking midway and slightly turned his head. “Get on the elevator and I’ll buzz you in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise the pace's going pick up after this point~! so i might do a double update this week 🥺 
> 
> hope you liked this chapter!! please leave a comment if you have time, i like knowing your thoughts (*≧ω≦*)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// descriptive panic attack and violence
> 
> i did a lot of research before writing this chapter, mainly on panic attacks. it was really eye-opening and i can only hope i've delivered realistically and most importantly, respectfully
> 
> //
> 
> as promised, here's chapter 3 a bit earlier! i thought of updating weekly since i already have the entire thing ready for posting, so updates are going to be on sundays and thursdays from now on ^^ thank you guys for all the support! ♡

It took Chanyeol about two hours to settle in the apartment.

There wasn’t much for him to unpack other than the few changes of clothes and his laptop. It did take him a while to set up his working space to match the one from his own apartment— he preferred to have everything organised in a specific way so that everything he needed would be within his reach.

When Baekhyun said the apartment was fully equipped, he meant it. The fridge, cupboards, and pantry were all filled to the brim with all of Chanyeol’s favourites. From his favourite coffee brand to his favourite _toilet paper_ brand. He wasn’t even surprised. Even the bedding felt oddly similar to the one he had in his apartment— less worn out from years of use of course.

He knew the Byun had done his research before reaching out to him but he didn’t assume it would be to this extent and with this much attention to detail.

After he had finished setting everything up, he sat down to check the computer he had been provided to work on.

On his side, he turned on his own laptop and pulled up the brief profile he had created on Baekhyun, which had less information about the person in question and more on his family’s history and associates.

This was exactly what Chanyeol needed. Another person he couldn’t find information on or learn anything about no matter how many strings he pulled.

He could only hope this database he had been provided with by Baekhyun himself would give him more than what he found on his own.

Chanyeol stuck his tongue out slightly as he turned back to the computer and started learning his way around it, well aware that each and every move of his was being monitored possibly by the very person he was searching for information about.

The database looked new. For a large group with thousands of employees _and_ members, there was little to nothing in each individual’s profile, Chanyeol noted as he clicked name after name in the alphabetically organised list.

Did the Byun just not care? How did he guarantee each and every single one of the members’ loyalty if he didn’t know much about their pasts or what they’ve been up to recently?

Chanyeol typed the names from the folders he had been given earlier in the search bar and clicked on each profile, comparing the information with each stack of papers he had laid out on the desk.

There’s more written on the printed paper, and even that was barely enough for Chanyeol to start with. It seemed like Baekhyun and Kyungsoo knew what they knew but don’t have it documented anywhere, as not everything they told him was written neither in the folders nor the profiles on the database.

Starting the job could wait until he was fully rested, though. He opened the database for an entirely different reason and perhaps it was time for him to get on with it. He turned to his laptop to scan the profile he had spent most of his energy working on one night a couple of weeks back.

He started building Baekhyun’s profile for fun, and the more challenging it got for him to find anything to add, the more he _wanted_ to find something; the more curious he got about the man.

Back on the database in the computer, he wasn’t surprised at the fact that Baekhyun’s profile didn’t exist— neither did Kyungsoo’s, for the matter.

It seemed like they made no mistakes.

A few clicks led him to the side of the database that contained general information and news articles, as well as reports by whoever it was that created this database to find information dating all the way back to the 80’s.

Then he was back to the same loop he got stuck on a couple of weeks back. More information about the family empire, a little about the happenings, and absolutely nothing about the ones that orchestrated it all.

He turned back to the profile opened on his own laptop and updated the information he already knew little of. A list of locations and general details of each hotel the Byuns owned in Asia, each department store in South Korea, each apartment complex and building in Busan, each bar and each nightclub as well as the names of the employees that work on running every single one of those establishments.

Chanyeol doubted he would ever need any of that to help him with his personal investigation, but he filed it all just in case.

Then he took the liberty to reading more of the Byun family history.

When Baekhyun and Baekbeom’s father, Yeonseok, retired from his position in the gang, all the responsibility was handed over to Baekbeom, who seemed to have resumed the business as usual, despite the sudden uproar that stirred within the organisation.

Then Baekhyun was sent to a university abroad to lay low away from the mess until Baekbeom settled everything between the members as well as his employees.

A few years passed by, then he began his campaign of ridding their family empire of any and all illegal activities— cutting contact with their drugs and arms suppliers, as well as shutting down the gambling rooms they owned and getting rid of all traces of them. He even let go of a few thousand members within the lower tiers, the ones that always stirred some kind of trouble. And he did it all at once.

It could have explained why the databases were mostly empty.

But it couldn’t have taken Baekbeom that long to arrange for all that, especially since he completely eradicated all criminal activities that occurred under the Byun family name within a week and a half. That only told Chanyeol that the route he took had _not_ been part of his plans to begin with.

Which brings about the question of _why_. What happened that made him change his mind about upholding and honouring his father’s ways and his uncle before him? No decision that big happened with no reason.

Doing that became his downfall, as he was beheaded in his own home, which brought about a clear message that someone— either on the inside or out, wasn’t happy with the changes Baekbeom had made.

His severed head was left there, but whoever did it had taken the middle finger on his right hand, which was where he usually wore the Byun family ring that had been passed down to him from his father.

Chanyeol briefly wondered if getting the ring back was one of Baekhyun’s objectives after finding the traitors.

Immediately after his son’s death, Yeonseok took back his position as chairman of the Byun Group and a while after, Baekhyun came back to South Korea and claimed his title as the Byun Group’s president and COO, as well as the head of the gang entirely, and he restored things back to the way they were.

Nothing after that had been documented, which spoke volumes about Baekhyun’s caution.

The informant was startled and had to stop copying the information as he almost fell off his seat thanks to the landline on his desk ringing — which he was sure would only mean one thing.

He composed himself and cleared his throat before he picked the phone up. He didn’t get a word out before he could hear the silky voice of his client against his ear.

_“Why don’t you take a break from snooping around and come have a drink with me in my office?”_

Chanyeol smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.” He said.

Baekhyun hung up, not having any of it, and Chanyeol chuckled as he put the phone down.

He got off his swivel chair— which, like almost everything else, was the exact same one he had in his office back in Seoul. He considered changing out of his shorts and hoodie, but decided against it because it seemed like too much work at the time.

Making sure the door to his assigned apartment was locked, he made his way through the hallways towards the buildings’ elevators.

From what Kyungsoo had told him, no one besides them were living in the building at the moment, especially not since Baekhyun himself had been occupying the penthouse.

So it was a bit too quiet in there as opposed to the building he lived in back in Seoul.

Once he made it to the elevators, he pushed the button to call one of them up. It came as no surprise when a loud ding was heard soon after he did.

He stood in front of the elevator doors as they opened, and went inside with his apartment key set at hand.

When Kyungsoo had given those to him after showing him around his apartment, he mentioned that he would have access to everything in the building, including the penthouse and his own flat in the level just below— in case Chanyeol needed anything from either of them.

They either trusted him too much and too soon or just didn’t see him as a threat.

Chanyeol shrugged, tapping his keycard in the system, and watching as the key on the panel with the number for the top floor blinked alongside the other ones and he pushed it.

His eyes wandered around the four walls of the elevator as he waited for his arrival, then settled on the mirror opposite the door.

The informant had never worn formal attire for any meeting or work related visit, so it wasn’t unusual for him to wear a hoodie and shorts to meet someone outside the comfort of his own home. He couldn’t help but wonder whether Baekhyun knew of this or not.

Chanyeol shook his head. Of course he did. He furnished the apartment he would be staying at until this job was over with the exact same furniture that Chanyeol had in his actual apartment. This little detail was nothing in comparison.

Before he knew it, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. From the reflection on the mirror, he could see a hallway that led into Baekhyun’s living room.

With a rehearsed smile on his face, he turned around and stepped out of the elevator, taking the liberty to walk farther inside and familiarising himself with his surroundings— he expected to spend a lot of time here within the next few weeks or even months, so it was never too early to start getting comfortable in the older man’s apartment.

“I see,” Baekhyun’s voice sounded from a distance, getting more clear as Chanyeol walked farther inside the premises.

Chanyeol stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the set of double doors that was left ajar and listening to Baekhyun— who seemed to be on a business call.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Baekhyun said. “Good. Once it checks out, you’ll get your money the usual way.” 

He didn’t sound happy, and Chanyeol could tell as much.

Baekhyun either stopped talking or lowered his voice, because Chanyeol couldn’t hear anything anymore. He started inching closer and closer to the door to catch any whispered words.

“I can hear your breathing, Chanyeol. Come in already.”

Whether Baekhyun was bluffing about his extraordinary hearing— because as hard as Chanyeol tried to control it, his breathing occasionally got loud whenever he was focused on something— or he was going by the elevator ding and the time it took Chanyeol to walk from there to his current position outside whatever room Baekhyun was in; Chanyeol didn’t know. He wasn’t startled about Baekhyun sensing his presence so easily, either.

Chanyeol made his way inside, stumbling in his steps when his thigh bumped into an accent table on the way to the door, and grimaced as he entered the room.

It was another office— decorated similarly to the one on the second floor of the same building, only far less spacious in comparison. Chanyeol wasn’t the only one who liked to work in a specifically set-up environment, it seemed.

He spotted Baekhyun sitting on one of the sofas he had there with his phone in one hand and a crystal glass in the other— which had far more liquid in it than appropriate, but Chanyeol knew what people in this line of work were like.

A matching set along with a mostly filled decanter had been placed in the middle of the table, one of the glasses indicating there having been someone here with him earlier.

“I don’t appreciate people eavesdropping on my phone calls, you know,” Baekhyun said, eyes still on the bright screen of his phone.

Chanyeol chuckled. “I thought I’d give you a little privacy, hyung. You don’t mind if I call you hyung, do you?”

Baekhyun finally looked up at him, not sparing him more than a glance, before he nodded at the sofa opposite to himself.

“If I needed privacy, I wouldn’t have called you up here,” he said.

The informant sat down, and Baekhyun’s eyes were back on his phone, not showing any indication that he was about to respond to his second question.

He shrugged it off as a sign of approval.

“What did you call me here for, anyway?” Chanyeol asked, fully aware why. “I was working.”

The president didn’t waste a second before answering his question. “Not on what I asked you to do, you weren’t,” he said, finally putting his phone down beside him on the cushion and turning to look at Chanyeol.

Chanyeol watched as Baekhyun bent forward and took a hold of the decanter, pouring some of it into one of the empty glasses in front of him.

“I called you up here because you seemed to be struggling in whatever it was you were trying to do,” Baekhyun said and he put the decanter down, pushing the now filled glass in Chanyeol’s direction, who gladly accepted it. “So what was it that you were trying to learn about me, hm?”

Baekhyun was clearly humouring him at this point, but Chanyeol couldn’t help but wonder if the COO knew that he searched up his name on purpose because he actually _wanted_ to be called out for what he was doing— only he didn’t expect to be _called up_.

“Nothing really,” Chanyeol said. “I was just testing out the database.”

Chanyeol put his glass down and looked back up at the other, who had been watching him intently without a thing to say. “Ah! Speaking of which, may I know why it’s empty?” he asked. “I thought you wanted me to do the job here— in _Busan_ because there would be more information available at my disposal on that computer, but there isn’t much to work with if I’m being honest.”

He knew there was no other reason than Baekhyun wanting to monitor what he was doing or what he would be finding out about this and the Byuns. He didn’t start working yet, but it wasn’t looking like being here would be in favour of this job finishing any faster.

“I could’ve gotten the job finished back home by now,” he decided to add.

Baekhyun— who had his own glass in front of his slightly opened mouth, ready to take a sip, lowered it. “Really, now?” he asked. “You have the same means back there that you have here yet you were busy searching _me_ on said useless database. So I doubt you’d have the job _finished.”_

The informant laughed, picking his glass up once more and taking another sip. “I wasn’t serious, hyung,” he said. “I trust that you’ve brought me here to get the job done more efficiently and effectively, don’t worry~ You’ve got more experience than I do, after all,” he said.

Chanyeol only received a snort in response as Baekhyun continued nipping his scotch. Chanyeol mimicked the gesture, tipping his head back a little and downing his own drink. Then he placed it back on the coffee table.

He wasn’t expecting for Baekhyun to give up on their little back and forth so soon, and it almost put a frown on his face had he not learned how to quickly discipline his expression throughout the years. He wanted this to be dragged out as long as possible without offending the other, maybe only provoking him a little.

The Byun picked the decanter up and refilled both their glasses, pouring significantly more liquor than the first time. Then he took his own glass and resumed drinking while blankly staring at Chanyeol— who had a hard time trying to figure out what kind of look he had been receiving.

“Regarding what I read…” Chanyeol decided to say to see whether it would change the expression on Baekhyun’s face or not.

It didn’t phase him.

“What?” Baekhyun asked. “You have questions?”

“I do,” Chanyeol said, allowing the corners of his lips to curve up a little.

Baekhyun sighed. “Go ahead.”

Chanyeol paused for a few seconds, not wanting to dive straight into what he was expecting to be a sensitive topic. Even if was, it wasn’t like Baekhyun’s features or reaction would reveal whether it was or not— Chanyeol only wanted to test the waters.

“Did you ever find the ring?” he asked.

By the way Baekhyun didn’t waste a second to reply, he seemed like he was anticipating this question.

“Did it say I did on that document you spent an unnecessarily long amount of time reading?” Baekhyun retorted.

Chanyeol frowned and pouted as he looked up in thought, and brought his free hand up to rub his chin.

“It didn’t specify whether you did or not,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Then I didn’t,” Baekhyun said.

The informant looked at him. “But you’re looking for it, aren’t you?” Chanyeol asked. “Isn’t that why those three men aren’t dead yet?”

“Those three are still alive because I have other plans for them once I’ve found out which one of them betrayed my brother,” Baekhyun answered.

He completely ignored Chanyeol’s first question. This wasn’t the first time he only acknowledged one out of two questions Chanyeol had asked in one breath. Whether he ignored it or this was just a habit of his, Chanyeol decided to start asking _one_ question at a time if he wanted to get everything he wanted out of Baekhyun.

The fact that he dodged that particular question meant that he _was_ looking for the ring. If he was, why did he only want Chanyeol to help find the one who betrayed his brother? The traitor didn’t necessarily also have to be the thief as well— surely Baekhyun knew that.

“What other plans did you have in mind?” Chanyeol asked, then finished the remaining liquor in his glass and placed it back on the table.

Baekhyun’s tongue clicked. “Your only job is to find out which one, Chanyeol,” he said. “You won’t _want_ be involved in what happens after if you have any self-preservation in you.”

Chanyeol stared at Baekhyun, eyes blinking a few times more than needed.

Those words served as a subtle reminder— or a warning— to Chanyeol of who he was talking to; to keep within his boundaries and be more careful of what he was saying.

Being who he was, Chanyeol snickered at the threat then laughed. Baekhyun being who he was, smirked after finishing his drink. He put his glass down and proceeded to refill both once more.

Chanyeol thought he would have somehow angered Baekhyun with his reaction. Baekhyun’s current delight at the situation worried him more than it would have if he were displeased with it.

“You’re laughing,” Baekhyun said. “I must have said something to amuse you. Care to elaborate?”

Chanyeol’s laughter slowly died down as he tried to speak.

“No, It’s just—”

Baekhyun cut him off. “You know, there’s always a way to hurt someone Chanyeol,” he said. “Not necessarily by killing them or physically injuring them.”

Chanyeol stopped laughing completely and slowly leaned back on his seat.

The president’s threats came as natural as breathing. Was this going to be part of the game Chanyeol had initiated with him? Or was he just tired for the night and wanted to wrap things up?

Either way, Chanyeol enjoyed it. Before he knew it, his expression was matching that of Baekhyun’s, and they both ended up silently staring at one another.

The informant put his glass back down, the clink of it against the glass surface of the coffee table cutting through the silence and air between them.

“But you can’t _always_ act upon them, can you?” Chanyeol asked. “Especially if you were bound by a contract.”

Again, Baekhyun didn’t waste a breath as he leaned forward.

“I always make sure to leave loopholes in those in case things don’t work out the way I want them to.”

Chanyeol had his fair share of intense encounters with dangerous people in the business, but nothing came close to this.

No, this was different. Chanyeol couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but it was a completely different type of tension; one he had never felt before.

He couldn’t bring himself to look away from the complacence on Baekhyun’s face. He didn’t _want_ to break eye contact already. He wanted to take it all in before it was over, before Baekhyun’s constant state and look of composure was back in place.

Perhaps the alcohol was getting to Baekhyun first— he _had_ been already drinking before Chanyeol walked in on him, after all. How high was his tolerance to alcohol, Chanyeol wondered? He himself was already starting to feel tipsy, and he only had about two— or was it three glasses?

Baekhyun seemed completely unfazed by it, though, as he took a few more gulps.

The informant was at a loss for words. He picked his glass back up and started drinking, following’s Baekhyun’s pace and finishing what remained of the drink in his glass to try to mask the fact that he had been put down so easily and so quickly.

“Might want to slow down on that,” Baekhyun spoke. “You’ve got work to do and people to meet tomorrow.”

Chanyeol put his glass back down. “Speak for yourself, hyung. You’ve had more to drink than I did,” he said.

Baekhyun snorted once again and rolled his eyes, breaking eye contact and raising his glass to his mouth, but not drinking yet.

“I can’t start my day without at least _one_ of these. Surprised you don’t already know that,” Baekhyun said.

He hummed. “I wonder,” he started. “Did I hire the right person for the job? Perhaps I’ve expected more from you than I should have.”

Now this offended Chanyeol. He sacrificed living a normal life and the safety of his grandparents as well as his own to become as good as he was in this job. He didn’t have a reputation that stretched outside of the city his base of operations was located in for nothing.

To be belittled by the Byun; for him to even insinuate that Chanyeol wasn’t good enough for the job, or in general, didn’t feel right.

His mind was a little clouded by the alcohol but he trusted his high tolerance and didn’t let it show that what Baekhyun had said had affected him in any way— even though it did.

Chanyeol wanted to save this piece of information he had gotten after he called in a favour that Strike owed him to catch Baekhyun off guard later, but a part of him only wanted to prove the COO and his implication wrong at the moment— he couldn’t care less about the loss of a possible leverage he had over the Byuns during his stay in Busan.

Because he was sure the Byuns would do about _anything_ to keep this hidden from anyone outside the family. And they had— for an extra price, Strike threw in some of the lengths they had gone through to make sure this particular detail was never to be made public.

He didn’t know how Strike got his hands on this, but the power he could hold over the Byuns was priceless. How he only told Chanyeol with _proof_ without charging a hefty amount was beyond even him.

“Alright, you got me,” Chanyeol said, letting out a sigh.

He pushed himself off the couch and got up.

“It’s getting late, anyway,” he said as he started walking to the door. “I’ll see you and your half brother tomorrow~”

Before he turned to leave, he made sure to get one glance at Baekhyun’s face.

The satisfaction he felt at _finally_ breaking the Byun’s composure; for _finally_ getting under his skin, was _unrivalled_.

He needed to remember to thank Strike for this.

——————

The first thing that registered in Chanyeol’s mind as he emerged from a deep sleep was flicking.

On and off, on and off.

It sounded familiar.

He didn’t open his eyes as he kept listening to the sound, trying to figure out what it was and where it was coming from before whatever it was got to him.

Then it clicked in his head, and he could feel his heartbeat started to pick up. This wasn’t happening. Not here, not now, and definitely _not_ in the presence of someone else.

Chanyeol could never forget that sound. He had spent a long time trying to forget the memories it had brought whenever it resonated in his ears. Alarms rang in his head, and he could only associate this distinct sound with danger.

It hadn’t even been a full day since he had arrived in Busan and his life had already been at risk from what he could assume.

He stayed still, and made sure to make no indication that he had woken up. The quickened speed of his breaths made it difficult to remain still, and it didn’t take long for the other occupant of the room to catch up.

“I know you’re awake.”

Chanyeol stiffened and tried his best to compose himself. He opened his eyes and allowed for it to adjust to the brightness before sitting up, remaining— or rather _trying_ to remain nonchalant about the situation.

He had to get out of there. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom, _anything._

As he lifted his neck a bit, he could see Baekhyun sitting on the armchair in the corner of his room, a recognisable black on black nine inch switchblade in hand. It belonged to him, given as a birthday gift by Junmyeon two years prior.

Chanyeol tried to focus more on Baekhyun’s face rather than his hand and what it was gripping.

With each flick of the blade between Baekhyun’s fingers, his heart thumped harder. He felt like he was starting to suffocate.

“Baekhyun hyung,” he forced out— and man, did he sound pathetic. He could only hope Baekhyun would pass it off as something that only came out of his throat in the morning.

Chanyeol gathered enough strength in his limbs to move himself to sit at the edge of his bed. “What a pleasant surprise~ I would have cleaned myself up a little had I known you were coming,” he said, sounding a tad more like himself this time.

Though he tried to fight it, his eyes kept flickering between Baekhyun’s face— where he was meant to be looking— and his hands along with their motion, eyes twitching each time the knife opened and closed.

At that moment, Baekhyun stopped playing with the switchblade, leaving it opened and running a finger through the dull side of it; as if admiring its build.

Relief washed over his mind for a second, but the rest of his body was restless and unresponsive. The repetitive sound and motion left him feeling uncomfortable. 

The informant wasn’t afraid at all— or so he repeatedly told himself in hopes of believing his own lie. He wouldn’t have been if Baekhyun wasn’t armed and didn’t look like he was ready to flick the knife in his direction. Although thinking about it, Chanyeol would rather he do that than restart the continuous sound of the blade popping out and back in.

“I enjoyed our little chat last night,” Baekhyun said. The look he had been giving him was completely unreadable. “Seemed to me you don’t know your place here yet, though.”

For once, Chanyeol couldn’t see how he could turn this into his favour and gain back the upper hand in the situation. His body was too numb to move, and even if he did force it to move, he would only end up getting his throat cut open by Baekhyun if the look in his eyes were anything to go by.

He was screwed, and he knew that. He tried to appear composed though, as he usually did when faced with such unpredictability. But he couldn’t think straight enough.

Baekhyun seemed to be _seething,_ if Chanyeol could read his expression at all— which he couldn’t, so he wasn’t sure.

He silently stared at Chanyeol before flicking the knife close and standing up. He slowly walked towards the side of the bed. Chanyeol would have flinched, but he stood his ground when Baekhyun started pacing in front of him instead of closing in on him.

“You know, my family has gone through _extreme_ lengths to keep the thing you brought up last night a secret between us only,” Baekhyun said, waving the knife around. “Did you not wonder how it’s been kept so well?” He asked as he stopped moving.

Baekhyun turned to him and bent down so that their faces were inches apart.

“It’s because no one’s lived long enough to utter a word after learning about Kyungsoo’s predicament.”

Chanyeol’s response came as a reflex. “Clearly not the case with my source,” he said, keeping his voice low because of the proximity between them.

Baekhyun snorted. “You’ve got balls,” he said. “I really like you, Chanyeol, so I’m not going to kill you just yet. I know enough about you to know you value yourself too much to sell this piece.”

Another flick came— closer to his ear this time, and Chanyeol’s mind shut down. He could feel the plague of darkness stretching through his arms and coiling at his fingertips. Then he felt nothing for a few moments.

It happened too quickly after Baekhyun finished speaking. Baekhyun’s movements were so swift and smooth, it took Chanyeol a few seconds to realise what had happened after the sting on the bridge of his nose settled in.

He had never used his switchblade before, so the tip of the knife was sharp enough to easily cut through the scarred skin. When Baekhyun got closer to his eye, he stopped running the blade, then he pressed it a little deeper before pulling it out.

While the pain wasn’t intense, Chanyeol’s heartbeat rattled in his ears along with his laboured breaths, and it started to get difficult for him to focus on Baekhyun’s face and words.

Chanyeol would have been gasping for air if it wasn’t for the Byun being right in front of him. He could have also been less together and more detached if he wasn’t there, but that was the only good thing about the other’s presence. He kept him anchored, even if he _was_ the source of his distress.

“Heed my words, Park,” Baekhyun said. His voice was starting to sound so far away. “I will _not_ hesitate to gouge both your eyes out if I heard whispers or news of this getting out.”

“Do you understand?” he asked. Too far away now.

Chanyeol’s head felt too heavy as he nodded in understanding.

A muffled clink followed shortly after. He was sure it was louder than what his brain registered, but he recognised it as the sound of the switchblade hitting the floor.

Out of Baekhyun’s grip. _Finally._

“Good,” Baekhyun said and he started walking out of his bedroom. “Fix yourself up and come down to my office.”

It wasn’t until Baekhyun was out of his sight that he allowed himself to be vulnerable.

The numbness in his limbs had long since turned into a tingling, throbbing, shaking— like his body had been shot with thousands of volts of electricity through his fingers and toes.

Chanyeol squeezed his eyes shut.

The sound he dreaded stopped a while ago. Baekhyun was long gone. He was alone. He could focus on breathing. Get everything back to normal and move on.

He had done it so many times before.

The pressure on his chest was nothing he couldn’t handle. The stars behind his eyelids weren’t there. The collar of his sweater wasn’t as suffocating as his brain was making it out to be. The lump in his throat that he couldn’t seem to push back wasn’t really there. The palpitations thudding his skull could all stop if he focused on his breathing.

It felt unreal. Just like each and every time this had happened before. He was used to it, yet he wasn’t.

Chanyeol opened his eyes and waited until his vision cleared up the best it could, and he was met with his hands lying limply against his thighs. Slowly, he brought one of them up and raised it towards his face.

He was _shaking_. His entire body was trembling; almost vibrating. And he couldn’t even feel himself doing it. It was all beyond his control and he couldn’t stop it.

Time passed— he didn’t know how much of it— as he continued to stare at his palm.

It felt like nothing was there to link him to reality.

Ringing sounded from afar, and maybe it was what he needed— because in the next moment, a guttural choke pushed up through his throat, and he was finally able to gasp for air again.

And in a single full swoop, it was as if all the fear was expelled from his system, and he was suddenly more aware of his surroundings as the ringing became louder.

Chanyeol felt something inside his stomach flipping around and repeatedly punching him in the gut. It stretched out his lungs and pinched his heart, and he could feel himself sweating as he keeled over on himself.

Having gained a little control back, his previous experiences replayed in his mind and he complied with his body’s needs. He straightened up and tried his best to keep his body upright to allow for air to flood into his lungs better. He greedily took whatever he could in, even if the oxygen intakes was making everything spin.

His body was still shaking, but it started subsiding.

Every breath he took shuddered, and he concentrated on that.

In, out, in, and out.

Weak. He was pathetic.

Chanyeol could feel the hysteria returning but he did his best to focus on his breathing. He shivered as he tried to compose himself even though his head felt like it was on _fire_. He was burning up as hot rolls of sweat waved up in the nape of his neck.

He didn’t know how long he sat there trying to calm himself down for. He couldn’t completely gain back composure even after the blood staining his cheek stopped dripping from his wound and started drying up.

This wasn’t like him. Not at all.

Chanyeol knew how to defend himself; be it mentally or physically. His responses and reflexes came automatically, so it scared him that he couldn’t move while Baekhyun worked on making his scar even more pigmented than it already was.

He was better than this. He was more in control of himself and everything around him than Baekhyun painted him to be moments ago— or was it minutes or hours ago now?

Quivers ripped through his muscles as he found strength in his legs that he shouldn’t have even had, and he almost didn’t manage to stay upright. He barely managed to stand. He staggered across his room, practically hauling his legs forward with each attempted step.

His focus was on not falling over, rather than on walking.

Chanyeol wasn’t certain how he made it to the bathroom door or how he got inside, but there he was, standing with his forehead pressed against the wooden door, hands balled up at his sides, and body still shaking.

The trembles eventually subsided, but nothing replaced it.

Nothing.

He changed into something more socially acceptable, and he fixed his face up using the first aid box in the bathroom.

All in a state of absolute numbness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this chapter!! ♡ as usual, comments are greatly appreciated (≧◡≦) 
> 
> next chapter: thursday!


	4. Chapter 4

Chanyeol was left with an hour to pick himself back up before his meeting.

It was enough. He was more than capable of keeping the mess inside his mind at bay until he was alone again. Until he could properly patch his thoughts up and get back to normal.

Years of dealing with the traumatic events of that night as well as his inner conflicts had taught him to never let it consume him for too long— to never let something he deemed trivial hinder him for too long.

This was normal. No one would have gotten out of such an ordeal unscathed. In his case, he came out with a deep cut on the bridge of his nose— he couldn’t remember how it happened no matter how much he thought about it— as well as an intolerance to the consistent flicking of a switchblade where he couldn’t hear it without his mind going erratic, as the sound was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out.

He wasn’t scared of Baekhyun and he wasn’t afraid of Baekhyun hurting him— at least notfurther than he already had. The cut on his nose that Baekhyun decided to carve back open didn’t hurt nearly as much as he remembered it did ten years before.

It was the sound of a switchblade flicking that had long since been tied with a traumatising experience. His mind had connected it only to the feeling of dread of approaching death, and even when he was in a safe space and was fully aware of it, he couldn’t control how he felt towards the sound. 

Chanyeol was otherwise completely fine. He was mentally, physically, and emotionally _exhausted_ at the moment, but he was fine. He had a job to fulfill and a contract to abide to, and it wasn’t going to be completed by itself.

He willed his body to move from his spot on the bed when he heard a knock on the door, followed by the sound of it opening and closing— was it necessary of whoever it was to even knock if they were going to open the door and walk in anyway?

It felt like it had been _days_ since Baekhyun’s little morning greeting, but it had only been a little under two hours. It hadn’t been nearly enough time for him to come face to face with another human being, let alone potentially the one who had put him in this state.

One of Chanyeol’s legs was a little numb because of the awkward position he was sitting in, but he took confident strides towards the door and inhaled deeply to gather himself before letting the breath out and swinging the door open.

He greeted Kyungsoo, who was standing in the middle of the living room, with a smile as charming as he could muster.

“Good morning,” Chanyeol said. “Sorry, I kinda slept in,” the lie slid off his tongue smoothly.

Despite still being a little shaken up from his panic attack, he had enough time to clear his head up a little. It wasn’t as enough as he had hoped, but it would get him through the day until he was alone again.

Kyungsoo hummed in response. “It was expected after such a long trip,” he said. “Scheduling an early meeting and not allowing you much time to rest was my mistake. You have my sincerest apologies for that.”

He could clearly see the curiosity in Kyungsoo’s eyes as his eyes focused on his nose, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to mention it. 

From the looks of it, Baekhyun hadn’t told him what went on between them last night— or two hours prior for the matter—and that Chanyeol knew about him being an illegitimate Byun. Either that or he was good at pretending he didn’t know.

Chanyeol shook his hand frantically “It’s fine!” he said. “I’m the one who’s being tardy,” he said, giving a light laugh.

“What happened to your nose?” Kyungsoo finally asked, closing in some of the distance between them as if to get a better look at it.

The step Chanyeol took to back away was instinctive and didn’t appeal the to favour of the second lie that came out of his mouth. “Oh, I dropped a cup on the counter and a shard flew right at me.”

“Right where your scar is?” Kyungsoo asked. “Strange,” he said, letting out a sigh. “Could’ve been worse. You could’ve lost an eye or both.”

Chanyeol laughed. “Right?” he said.

“It’s bleeding through, though,” Kyungsoo said as he eyed the wound carefully. “Doesn’t seem like you dressed it up properly. Do you need help?”

With an exaggerated shake of his head and hands, Chanyeol declined. “It’s alright,” he said. “I’ll fix myself up right away then we can get going.”

“You sure?” Kyungsoo asked.

Chanyeol started walking backwards to his current bedroom’s door. “Yeah, I’ve done this so many times, it’s no big deal,” he said. “Must’ve been too sleepy earlier,” he laughed.

As soon as he bypassed the door’s frames, he turned around. “I won’t be long,” he said, then he closed it behind him and let out a soft sigh.

He went straight into the en suite bathroom, and stood right in front of the mirror by the sink, where the first aid box he had used in a scurry earlier still remained opened, its contents a complete mess.

Chanyeol wasn’t lying when he said he had done this frequently. He was never in this much disarray, though. How far gone was he when he attempted to tend to his wound earlier? He couldn’t even entirely remember what happened exactly.

When he checked the state of his handy work in the mirror, he noticed that he indeed did a terrible job. So he took a deep breath, grabbed what he needed from the first aid box, and started redressing his wound properly this time.

Once he was done and satisfied with his work, he put the first aid box back into the mirror cabinet, and went back outside.

Kyungsoo took the liberty to rest on the sofa with his legs crossed while he waited for Chanyeol to finish. He looked straight at him when he came out, immediately assessing his work.

“Looks better,” Kyungsoo said as he stood up. “Shall we get going, then?” he asked.

Chanyeol gave him a nod. “Right after you~” he said.

Kyungsoo smiled briefly, then headed towards the door and led them through the hallways to the elevators.

It was a quiet walk, and Chanyeol enjoyed it because it gave him a few peaceful moments to clear his mind before he faced the one person he wasn’t feeling like being around that day. It was inevitable, though.

They got into one of the elevators and headed down to where Baekhyun’s office was located in the second floor.

It didn’t come as a surprise when he was met with Baekhyun in there already, still clad in the same outfit he had on as he carved Chanyeol’s face earlier.

He gave no regards to Chanyeol when he had walked in and gotten comfortable on the couch. He seemed to be indifferent towards Chanyeol, if anything.

“You’re late,” was all he said.

And Chanyeol didn’t have to look at him to know who his words were directed to.

“Yeah, I had a little _incident_ this morning,” Chanyeol said. “You’ll have to excuse me for that.”

Baekhyun snorted. “What, couldn’t handle a little cut on your face?” he gave a little laugh.

“It’s actually deeper than you think,” Chanyeol said.

The COO laughed while taking a full spin on his swivel chair.

“Let’s stay focused, please,” Kyungsoo said. “We’re already behind on schedule.”

Baekhyun sighed and rested his chin on his hand. “Go on, then,” he said.

Kyungsoo ignored Baekhyun and looked at him. “You’ll be accompanying us to the office today, Chanyeol,” he said. “You’re going to meet a few employees as well as Lee Kangmin.”

“You’re going to play the role of the new intern and recruit,” Baekhyun decided to chime in. “And if your act falters, there will be consequences.”

“What if someone recognises me?” Chanyeol asked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, kid,” Baekhyun said. “This is Byun territory, no one’s heard of you here unless they knew where they were looking.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes.

“And for fuck’s sake, put on something more appropriate for a work environment next time, won’t you? he added.

If this were any other morning, one where he didn’t start with a mafia leader leaving an even nastier scar on his face atop an existing one; one where he didn’t have a panic attack and had to quickly collect himself so that he could go on about the things he had to do, he would have retorted and maybe even gotten under his skin.

But it wasn’t. And in all honesty, he felt a little embarrassed at what happened earlier because Baekhyun’s reaction to him revealing that he had an upper hand wasn’t something he was expecting. After all, his intention was to plant fear and use Baekhyun to get what he wanted— not lose the one leverage he could use against the Byun as well as whatever dignity he had.

“Ignore him,” Kyungsoo told him. “We’re not that strict.”

Chanyeol did as he was told, and nodded at Kyungsoo. “Got it,” he said.

They spent a good 15 minutes telling him what to do and what not to do— as well as how to act and how to speak when they get to the office.

Kyungsoo did most of the talking while Baekhyun threw a snide remark at him every once in a while.

Chanyeol only listened and nodded with half a mind and at this point, he didn’t care whether they noticed his absentmindedness or not. He just wanted to get this day over with.

He felt like shit at that moment thanks to the terrible start he had to his day, but he had no regrets.

All he had to do was pick himself back up like always.

——————

If the visit to the Byun group headquarters in Nam-gu the day before taught him anything, it would be to step up his game a little bit. If anything, it came as a wakening jolt to his systems— ones that shut down that same morning.

Upon his meeting with Lee Kangmin, it became clear to him that the man was keeping more than he let on. He didn’t give him the chill in his spine that a murderer would have, but with the way he spoke so calmly and casually, he wouldn’t put it past him to arrange what Baekhyun had suspected him of doing himself. Chanyeol would find out sooner or later, anyway.

He had already changed into something clean and gotten ready for the morning. He had a meeting in Dong-gu that he had arranged prior to his trip to Busan in preparation for dealing with Baekhyun’s needs. 

After receiving the monster of a document Byun Baekhyun called a contract, Chanyeol realised that this job wouldn’t be as easy as his usual ones. He needed to ensure that his network and Baekhyun’s weren’t connected, otherwise he would be going around in circlesand he would essentially be under Baekhyun’s complete mercy— as if he wasn’t almost there.

Before getting to Busan, a few phone calls to each five of his most trusted contacts in Seoul got him in good with their trusted acquaintances in Busan, and in return, they got in touch with _their_ friends and that’s how he had come to a network of people he could trust. Or at least he thought he could. If it bites him back in the ass, it bites him back in the ass, and he would return the favour to the ones who helped create this connection in the first place. He knew they wouldn’t dare cross him though, as they were made aware a while ago that it wouldn’t be in their best interest to fuck him over.

He would use the numbers Baekhyun gave him every once in a while to keep him unsuspecting, and only for information he could risk Baekhyun finding out that he knows. That way he could withhold as much as he could from Baekhyun so that he could keep needing him around.

Chanyeol needed to be in Busan. He couldn’t put his finger on it quite yet, he just felt like being here would bring him closer to the truth about what happened to his father one way or another. He felt like he could find a lead here; be it a name, a place, a piece of information about his father— it felt just out of his reach. And he was determined to find it.

He contemplated making a cup of coffee, as he still had time, but opted to buy it on his way. Baekhyun might have had someone following him for all he knew— or maybe not because he didn’t seem worried about what Chanyeol would or wouldn’t do, but he needed to stay wary about this. He needed to climb back to the top of his game for this.

Grabbing only his wallet and keys, he left the apartment complex. The same driver who had brought him here was waiting outside, and he offered to drive him, but Chanyeol politely declined and started walking to the nearest coffee shop in the area, which he had located on his phone the night before. He didn’t want to walk around aimlessly and waste time and possibly miss his meeting with the guy.

After getting his much needed cup of coffee, he started walking to the subway station. He could already feel someone on his tail, though, and he wondered if his little follower knew Chanyeol was aware of him, because he wasn’t doing a very good job.

Once he got to the platform and the train got there, Chanyeol had eyes on the one following him. He kept his distance, but wasn’t being discreet. Maybe Chanyeol would teach him a thing or two about that.

He had to stop himself from smiling at the thought as he took a sip of his iced brew.

When the train got there, Chanyeol got in and stayed standing near the door. He watched the guy get in the other end of the same car from the corner of his eyes, and he waited until the doors were about to close to hop right off, taking note of the guy’s frustrations through the window as the train took off.

Having gotten rid of him so easily, Chanyeol waited for the next train and used it to get to his destination.

Once he got to Busan station in Dong-gu, it was a short walk to the meeting point. He followed the map on his phone to the location he received earlier that day.

The only reason he was meeting up with this specific contact was so that he could pay him for the information he had given him the night before. He would wire it like he usually did, but it was too big of a sum to transfer to someone for the first time. He thought that it would be best to pay in cash and by hand first— and the lowlifes preferred it that way, too.

He was told by one of his trusted sources in Seoul that he wouldn’t need to wait or see if the information he received checked out; that he could trust anything they would tell him.

Chanyeol shrugged, it wouldn’t be much of a bother if he was scammed at this point. He would just have to find some other way to get the name and location of Lee Kangmin’s favourite gambling room that was owned by the Kims. Like from the certain Kim he was having dinner with that night.

The few turns he took to get to the location led him to streets that progressively got emptier until he was in a closed ally with a figure standing at the end of it. He didn’t stop— instead, he continued walking at the same pace until he stood in front of the guy.

He took a look at him before asking. “Park?”

Chanyeol nodded once. “I’m guessing you’re Jung?”

“Yeah,” he said.

As he confirmed the other’s identity, Chanyeol took an envelope out of his hoodie’s front pocket and handed it to him.

“2,000,000 won, as promised. How fast can you double check?”

The guy shook his head. “No need,” he said as he pocketed the envelope and took out a small piece of paper, handing it over to Chanyeol. “I asked around and found the guy who has eyes on him often. Here’s his number, he’s quite reliable.”

“Thanks,” Chanyeol said as he took the offered paper and shoved it in his pocket. “I’ll stay in touch,” he said as he turned around and started walking out of the ally.

He would head back to the apartment for now to get started.

——————

Although Baekhyun was completely against Chanyeol meeting up with any of the Kims without neither himself nor Kyungsoo present, Junmyeon had somehow gotten what he wanted.

Dinner with Chanyeol, Junmyeon insisted, as it had been a while since Chanyeol visited him in Busan and since they had last seen each other in the first place.

Chanyeol didn’t know how Junmyeon had managed to convince the hardheaded Byun— maybe it didn’t need much thought, because why else was he appointed as the head of negotiations for anything to do with Kim Industries?

One thing that didn’t sit well with Chanyeol was that Junmyeon never told him he was on— dare he say, _friendly_ terms with Byun Baekhyun. From what he had seen of Baekhyun, this spoke a lot about Junmyeon as a person.

He shrugged. It didn’t really matter, because he would find out eventually. Right now, he had to focus on concealing the healing wound that replaced and worsened his scar the best he could. For a second, he didn’t know why he was bothering with this because with Junmyeon, this was a conversation and lecture waiting to happen.

Besides, he was sure the concealer he had bought on his way back from his meeting didn’t really match his skin tone, and that he was going about this the wrong way by applying it on top of the bandage rather than on the wound itself to try to blend it in with his skin. He was just setting himself up, really.

Eventually, he gave up and washed the concealer off, and placed the bandage normally. He would just think of something on the spot to get Junmyeon off his back if he brought it up. Although knowing Junmyeon, he would probably silently dance around the subject until Chanyeol was pressured enough to bring it up himself.

It was insane how he was aware of Junmyeon’s habits and allowed himself to fall for them every time.

He finished getting dressed appropriately— as asked— and grabbed the stuff he needed before heading to the door. When he opened it, he immediately flinched and took a step back at the sight that awaited him.

“Finally?” Baekhyun said, leaning against the wall opposite his door. “You took a hell of a long time to get ready only to come out looking the same as always.”

This was Chanyeol’s first time seeing Baekhyun clad in something other than his usual black on black suit. He was dressed too casually for Chanyeol’s comfort. His hair was tousled as well, as if he had just washed it and allowed it to air dry. The intimidating factor wasn’t present in his appearance for once, and Chanyeol would have found it adorable if it wasn’t for the intense look in Baekhyun’s eyes.

Chanyeol didn’t want to continue staring in awe. If he didn’t force himself to look away, who knew how much longer he would have stayed staring and analysing everything he could find about the Byun.

So with a roll of his eyes, Chanyeol stepped outside and allowed the door to close behind him, not bothering with the lock.

“What an unpleasant surprise,” Chanyeol said. “If you’re here to remind me what I can and can’t talk about with Junmyeon hyung, then don’t bother. I know what I agreed to.”

“I only came down here to tell you to enjoy yourself tonight,” Baekhyun said, stepping away from the wall and and straightening himself up.

Chanyeol snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Was I not sincere enough?” Baekhyun asked, snickering.

He took the few steps he needed to close the distance between them.

“I just thought I’d let you know that I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere kid, and I’ll _know_ if you breached our contract.”

“And trust me, if you didn’t enjoy the consequences of crossing _me_ enough,” Baekhyun said, reaching out to try to touch the bandage on Chanyeol’s nose, but Chanyeol moved his head to the side, which brought an amused smile on Baekhyun’s lips as he continued.

“Then you definitely won’t enjoy the consequences of breaking part of our deal,” he said.

Two days in and these threats were getting old already. So Chanyeol gave a thumbs up and smiled. “Got it,” he said, certain it would anger or frustrate Baekhyun.

He didn’t think it would _confuse_ him like it did.

Baekhyun raised a brow and hummed. “Guess I’m not as intimidating without a weapon to you,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll make sure to have one in hand at all times then.”

He backed away and started walking down the hallway. “See you later, Chanyeol~” Baekhyun said as he waved.

Either Baekhyun was in a good mood or he didn’t have enough scotch in his system because he was acting too normal for Chanyeol’s comfort.

Chanyeol’s phone gave a single quick buzz for a message received, so he raised his phone up in front of his face to read it.

**From Junmyeon hyung:**

I’m outside

He put his phone in his pocket and followed Baekhyun to the elevators. He wasn’t there anymore, though. He must have already gone back up.

Good. He didn’t feel like seeing him again directly after that weird encounter.

Chanyeol pressed the key to call an elevator to his floor and waited. It didn’t take long until he was downstairs.

His wide strides took him across the courtyard fast enough to get to where Junmyeon’s car was parked. No driver tonight, so he opened his own door and got into the passenger’s seat.

“Hey, hyung,” Chanyeol said as he fastened his seatbelt. He turned his face slightly to the side, thankful his scar was closer to his right eye, away from Junmyeon’s line of sight at the very least. “How’ve you been?” he asked.

Junmyeon didn’t spare any time before asking. “What happened to your nose?”

Realising it was futile, Chanyeol turned to fully face him. “You’re not going to greet me back before asking?”

“Did Byun Baekhyun do this to you?” Junmyeon asked.

He really couldn’t hide anything from him, could he? Chanyeol let out a laugh to ease the other’s tension.

“Relax, hyung,” he said. “I just have this on to cover the scar. You know, since I’m not exactly liked in this city and I’m kinda trying to avoid getting kidnapped or killed?”

Junmyeon sighed and turned to face the road ahead of him. He set the car back to drive and took off.

“I know,” Junmyeon said. “But since when did you care about getting noticed?”

“Baekhyun told me to keep a low profile,” Chanyeol answered.

Junmyeon hummed as he took his first right, out of the residential area. “Did he, now?” 

“Yeah, it was actually mentioned on the contract he had me sign when I first got here,” Chanyeol said, keeping his eyes focused on his window.

“Oh, but of course, the _contract,”_ Junmyeon echoed.

Chanyeol nodded once, “Yeah,” he said.

Junmyeon was quiet after that and Chanyeol was relieved. It usually took a lot more to get him to stop pestering him about something.

The informant took it as it was and focused on the nightlife beyond his window. There wasn’t much to look at, it was a pretty quiet area, lacking what usually attracted people to leave the comfort of their homes at night.

The car stopped at a red light when Chanyeol felt a sharp jab at his upper left arm. He winced.

“Except it wasn’t mentioned in the contract, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon said. “Now tell me what really happened to your nose.”

Chanyeol rubbed his arm and shifted as far away from Junmyeon as he could get in the confines of the small car.

“Tell me how you got access to it first,” Chanyeol said.

Junmyeon rolled his eyes. “You know as well as everyone else that I’ve got my ways,” he said. “Now stop avoiding the subject because the skin around your little bandage is red and it’s painfully obvious.”

“Fine,” Chanyeol sighed. “I had a little accident with a cup in the kitchen.”

“Hm?” Junmyeon pressed for more.

“It broke and a shard flew right at me,” Chanyeol pointed at his scar. “Could’ve been my eyes, you know,” he added.

The car started moving and Junmyeon focused on the road ahead of him once more.

“Do you take me for an idiot?” he calmly asked.

“Of course not,” Chanyeol said.

“Then how do you expect me to believe a shard _flew_ directly to your scar of all places?” Junmyeon asked.

Chanyeol knew he couldn’t lie to Junmyeon and that he would eventually get what he wanted, but it was worth the shot.

“Alright, alright,” Chanyeol finally said. “I may or may not have done something to piss Baekhyun off.”

“Isn’t an injury technically a breach of contract?” Junmyeon asked.

“Ah,” Chanyeol said. “Don’t bother with that— I read the contract again and it didn’t say anywhere that the first party couldn’t lay their hands on me.”

Junmyeon sighed. “Why’d you piss him off, Chanyeol?”

“I thought I’d gain the upper hand—” Chanyeol stopped.

It still scared him, how easily Junmyeon could get him to talk about things he had no intentions to talk about in the first place.

“What do you have against him?” Junmyeon asked. Straightforward as usual.

_Shit_.

This wasn’t good. Junmyeon was after a specific answer that Chanyeol couldn’t give. He _had_ to do something to get his interests off this, because if he really wanted to and knew where he was looking, he would find it one way or another.

And this couldn’t get out. Chanyeol couldn’t afford to let this get out. Baekhyun would trail it straight back to him even if it didn’t have anything to do with him. And he was sure Baekhyun wouldn’t just _kill_ him.

Chanyeol couldn’t begin to imagine what the Byun would do to him.

So he repeatedly clicked his tongue while shaking his head.

“That’s classified information.” Chanyeol decided to say.

“Let me guess,” Junmyeon said as he pulled over to the side, stopping the car. “He’d kill you if you told anyone, won’t he?”

“I’m too young to die, hyung,” Chanyeol whined.

The other let it go _completely_ as he powered down his car and unbuckled his seatbelt. Chanyeol followed suit and they both got out of the car, then walked straight past all the people waiting for a table outside. They earned a couple of disapproving looks on the way before they walked into the restaurant.

Junmyeon didn’t even try keeping a low profile by waiting like the rest of the customers were, instead being greeted by each waiter that passed by as if he owned the place.

Chanyeol was certain he didn’t, but he might as well have.

They were taken to a private booth at the back and got comfortable in their seats before a couple of waiters brought enough food to fill the table for four.

“I called ahead and told them to get everything ready,” Junmyeon said.

Their collective love for meat could be unhealthy, as Chanyeol took a look at the different types of beef-based dishes in front of them, but it didn’t matter to him as long as he got a good meal out of it, like always.

“I don’t get you,” Chanyeol said, taking a hold of his chopsticks and picking up a slice of meat from the dish closest to him. “You’re convinced meals are a waste of your time yet you insist on going to these restaurants _and_ waiting for my arrival.” he added, then popped the piece into his mouth.

Junmyeon was already chewing on a piece, so Chanyeol waited until he swallowed it before he spoke.

“I think the _time_ we spend eating is a waste,” he corrected as he picked his bowl of rice. “There’s a difference. Why do you think I always call ahead with my orders?”

Chanyeol tilted his head. “All this time I thought it was because you got sick of my company easily,” he said.

Junmyeon chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I wouldn’t force you out with me otherwise.”

The informant’s phone— which he had placed beside his cutlery— gave a single, quick vibration. He peeked at his lock screen to see a message from the guy he had met earlier that day.

Excusing himself from Junmyeon, he picked his phone up and skimmed through the message.

One of his _guys_ , he said, had found something, and added that he should give him a call as soon as he could.

Chanyeol quickly typed out a reply, informing him to wait for his call later that night, and put his phone straight back down.

“Sorry, hyung,” he said. “You were saying?”

“You can take it if it’s urgent,” Junmyeon said, now too occupied with his meal to give Chanyeol his undivided attention.

Chanyeol shrugged. “It can wait.”

They both ate in silence for a while; with Chanyeol thinking of how he could ask for what he wanted without raising Junmyeon’s suspicions.

Yet again, it was useless. And Junmyeon was more likely to say okay straight away if he approached this directly instead of being ambiguous.

“I actually wanted to ask how your cousin’s doing,” Chanyeol said.

Junmyeon sighed, as if he was exasperated with anything to do with the man.

“It’s as if not any time had passed since his arrest,” Junmyeon answered. “His parole officer’s turning a blind eye to everything he’s doing.”

Chanyeol nodded. “So he’s adjusting well,” he said. “Is he gambling again, by any chance?”

Junmyeon put his glass down after taking a sip. “Never stopped,” he said. “Why?”

“It’s just,” Chanyeol started to say. “You spoke of his addiction so much that I’ve been itching to see him in action since his release.”

Instead of a yes or no, Chanyeol was met with an intense stare. Junmyeon had even stopped eating.

Until he sighed again and picked his chopsticks back up. “I’m going to pretend not to know that this has something to do with the job you’re doing for Byun and say okay, I’ll take you.”

“No, no—” Chanyeol shook his hands in front of him. “I mean, I _do_ have some work to attend to up in his little game room in Haeundae-gu, but I really _am_ curious about him as a whole,” he said.

“I see,” was all Junmyeon said in return, eyes darted down at his food instead of Chanyeol.

“So can you take me?” Chanyeol asked.

“No,” Junmyeon blurted out.

Before Chanyeol could protest, he elaborated. “It’s not like you’d need my help getting in there seeing as you already know the location, meaning there’s a high probability that you also know where _and_ how to get in.”

At the very least, even if he couldn’t get what he wanted, Chanyeol just confirmed that the location he had received from the guy he met earlier was real and that he could somewhat trust him as well as the person he would be directing him to later that night with hopefully more useful information.

“I actually don’t know how to get in,” Chanyeol said— which wasn’t exactly a lie, because he still didn’t _completely_ trust the guy he got the information from yet. “I wouldn’t bother you if I did,” he added.

Junmyeon paused and looked at him a second longer than Chanyeol was comfortable, then he continued eating.

“Alright, I’ll arrange it,” he said.

“One more thing—” Chanyeol hoped he wasn’t pushing it with his following question. “Can I bring someone with me?” he asked.

“If by someone you mean Byun, you can forget about it because Minseok hyung can’t tolerate him,” Junmyeon said.

Chanyeol looked up in thought. “He’s not exactly a Byun, per se, but he _is_ the vice president of the company,” he said carefully.

“No problems there, then,” Junmyeon said.

So the place had no restrictions aside from Byun Baekhyun himself. Other Byun Group employees were allowed in, which meant Chanyeol could safely assume that Kangmin really could have been a frequent there or in any other one of their illegal gambling rooms.

“Appreciate it!” Chanyeol said.

The informant looked down at his side of the table to see that he barely touched his food after the first few bites. So he tried to multitask, but it was a little hard talking while paying attention to Junmyeon’s body language as well as getting everything he wanted to say across with a mouthful.

“Out of curiosity,” Chanyeol said as he stopped chewing. “Why can’t he tolerate Baekhyun hyung?”

Junmyeon raised a brow at him. “Baekhyun _hyung?”_

“Never mind,” he quickly said. “In short, he lost a lot of money during a game with Byun when we were younger. He thought it’d be easy money since Byun had told him it was his first time— which we would all later find out was complete _bullshit_ from the way he played,” Junmyeon said, letting out a chuckle.

“He was a taunting little shit and it made hyung lose his temper completely,” he added. “But that was only first of the countless of times Byun played him.”

Chanyeol hummed. “He _is_ infuriating, isn’t he?”

After a single nod in agreement, Junmyeon looked him straight in the eyes. “And you should be careful, Chanyeol,” he said. “I’d advise you to finish what he brought you here to do, leave, and never contact him again if possible.”

“Look what he did to your nose,” Junmyeon said, pointing at his face with his chopsticks. “I doubt he’d hold back if you did something like that again.”

Chanyeol sighed. He was right, wasn’t he? Baekhyun was _dangerous_ , as he had seen from the glint in his eyes while he seemed to have been fighting the urge to poke Chanyeol’s eyes out with that switchblade.

“I know. Trust me, I’ve learned the hard way,” he said.

They finished the rest of their meal quietly aside for the occasional small talk here and there. 

Junmyeon seemed close with Baekhyun— or so Chanyeol had initially thought, until he started speaking about him. It didn’t sound like Junmyeon was fond of him or anything to do with him at all.

He dropped him back at the apartment building, and the ride back was filled with idle conversations about the incompetency of the people that worked for and around Junmyeon.

Then he told him that he would let him know once everything was set for his visit in Haeundae-gu with Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol didn’t know what to expect out of this, but he looked forward to see where it would lead him next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl i got a little too distracted earlier celebrating the announcement of jongdae's single that i almost went to bed without updating kjhjkh 
> 
> anyway hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! next chapter's going to be a heavy one 👀


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to learn how to play poker to write the first scene kjhkjj i promise i already forgot how to play lmao
> 
> introduction of more of the characters and a little taste of chanbaek's relationship in this chapter!!

It didn’t take much for Kyungsoo to agree on accompanying him and Junmyeon to Kim Resort and Casino in Haeundae Beach the following night.

Of course, the casino itself was catered for foreigners and South Koreans were prohibited from entering and playing— which was fine by Chanyeol. The slot machines as well as the dealers’ shouts were far too loud for him anyway.

Junmyeon had told him to dress properly. And of all times he wouldn’t listen to Junmyeon, this wasn’t going to be one. While the two he was with were in their usual attire— those, itchy, uncomfortable looking suits that made them both look twice their age— Chanyeol opted to just lose the hat and wear a burgundy dress shirt tucked in his jeans. Junmyeon didn’t have anything to say when he saw him, so he guessed he did something right.

Chanyeol walked behind Junmyeon with Kyungsoo trailing back behind him as they made their way to and over the bar, without having to say anything for the bartender to allow them access to the private area.

What they were met with, though, was only a slightly too long empty hallway. At first glance, it was just that. A long empty hallway with an accent table and a couple of vases on top, with a mirror; blending in with the theme of the hotel.

As they walked towards the end, Junmyeon stopped in front of the mirror, prompting Chanyeol and Kyungsoo behind him to come to a halt as well.

“When we get in there, follow me and don’t stare too long at anyone on our way to our table,” Junmyeon said.

Since Junmyeon could see Chanyeol’s reflection on the mirror, Chanyeol gave a nod of his head. Kyungsoo said and did nothing, just as he hadn’t the entire car ride as Junmyeon’s driver drove them here.

He preferred Kyungsoo’s company over Baekhyun’s any day, so he was somewhat thankful the latter was blacklisted from any and all Kim property unless invited. Otherwise, Chanyeol was certain the situation in the car would have been something else entirely.

Junmyeon knocked on the wall between the mirror and the table twice, and he waited.

A door opened towards the inside, moving the entire wall— including the table, which was cleverly and carefully glued onto the wall, hanging to hover slightly above the ground so that the table’s legs wouldn’t scrape against the floor as the door opened— but stopped halfway, allowing just enough space for them to slip inside past the employee manning the door. Then it was immediately shut closed. They descended a short flight of stairs and another employee opened the door that would lead to the hidden game room.

The place was half the size of the main casino, just not as packed with people and definitely not as noisy, as the slots didn’t seem to be on at the moment. Soft jazz music played in the background instead, volume low enough for gamblers sitting on one table to be able to hear one another, but high enough for their conversations not to be carried through to the neighbouring tables.

It seemed like a busy night.

Since it was illegal for South Koreans to gamble, this room was strictly and specifically made for them.

Disregarding what Junmyeon had told them before they entered, Chanyeol let his eyes briefly wander over the men and women sitting on the tables. He recognised some— political figures, celebrities, and of course, infamous higher ups of Kim industries.

Before anyone could notice him watching, Chanyeol focused his gaze on the back of Junmyeon’s head and continued following the elder.

Junmyeon made a beeline to a closed off area behind the bar they had inside, where a couple of tables specified for important guests— in this case, the Kims themselves— were.

As soon as they were past the curtains they had for privacy, Chanyeol could see Kim Minseok and Kim Jongin sitting there on a round table in the dimly lit room.

Chanyeol could still make out their features clearly.

He knew Jongin, the one he was here to meet in the first place, as he was well acquainted with him. He mostly looked the same— same sharp jaw, same unintentional pout on his lips whenever he was focused on the task at hand— save for his new, slightly more built, figure that Chanyeol could still make out as Jongin was sat down, as well as his new ash brown hair.

Minseok’s softly structured face glistened even in the dark. The menacing expression he had on his face as he browsed through his phone got rid of whatever first impression anyone would have of the man.

A black shirt with thin, vertical white stripes— first couple of buttons undone to reveal a bit of his chest— tucked in black pants adorned his small figure. His short, light brown hair was styled away from his face to highlight his freshly groomed brows.

Photos couldn’t capture even 70% of his allure.

Neither of them looked up in acknowledgement of their arrival, as Minseok seemed to be pretty focused on whatever it was he was doing on his phone, and Jongin appeared to be absentmindedly shuffling a deck of playing cards.

“You’re here?” Jongin said, bringing his eyes up to look at them without lifting his head. “Took you long enough.”

Junmyeon chuckled. “Roads were jammed,” he said.

Jongin tapped the deck of cards on the table a couple of times, then put them down in front of him and finally straightened his back to look up at them. He leaned to the side to get a better look at him and Kyungsoo.

“Park Chanyeol!” he said with a wave of his hand. “It’s been a while~” 

“It has,” Chanyeol said as he stepped out from behind Junmyeon and took a few steps towards the table. “How’ve you been, Jongin?”

Instead of answering his question, Jongin frowned. “You said you’d visit more often then disappeared for half a year,” he said.

Chanyeol chuckled. “I got a little preoccupied in Seoul,” he said. “But I’m here now.”

“Please, you’re only in town for business,” Jongin said.

“You could say that~” Chanyeol responded.

Jongin picked the deck back up and started shuffling the cards again. “Have a seat,” he said.

“You’ve gambled here before, haven’t you?” Junmyeon asked.

Chanyeol closed the distance between himself and the table, and took the middle of the three empty seats. “I did lose a lot of money to Jongin in the span of two hours before, just not here,” he said. “I truly didn’t know this place existed until recently, hyung.”

“When?” Junmyeon asked, taking the seat between him and Minseok.

“Around six months ago,” Chanyeol answered.

Junmyeon rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you needed to have me with you this time, but whatever it is, you owe me.”

Chanyeol exchanged a quick glance with Jongin, and unsurprisingly enough, it went unnoticed by the other occupants of the room.

In exchange of telling Chanyeol everything that Lee Kangmin had done in their gaming room, Jongin had asked him to drag Junmyeon along, as being a terrible player made it easy to win a lot of money off of him. He also told him to bring someone else to make it interesting.

Most importantly, he told them to bring a large sum of money— 20 million won, for the buy-in. This was basically what he would be getting in exchange for the tip in case he won the game. And it was far more than anything Chanyeol had ever paid for trivial information, but he shrugged it off and withdrew the amount anyway.

Kyungsoo silently sat down between Chanyeol and Jongin just as they both took their eyes off one another.

“Why’s the Byun here?” Jongin asked, nodding his chin in Kyungsoo’s direction.

Kyungsoo wasted no time in getting straight to the point. “Business,” he said.

“Of course you are,” Jongin said. “Now that we’re all here and accounted for… shall we get started?” he asked.

Jongin waited until Junmyeon and Minseok posted their blinds, then he started dealing the cards.

Kyungsoo’s eyes followed Jongin’s hands, then they landed on the pair of cards sitting face down in front of him.

“I didn’t come here to play,” Kyungsoo leaned in and quietly told chanyeol.

“We’ll get around to what we came here for after,” Chanyeol whispered. “You know as well as everyone on this table that nothing comes for free. _Especially_ not in our line,” he added.

“Is there a problem?” Jongin asked.

“None,” Chanyeol said.

Jongin hummed. “I hope you know how to play poker, Do Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo sat upright in his seat and picked up his cards. “I do, but I’m afraid I’m not very good at it,” he said as he put them back down on the table after taking a good look at them. “I hope we won’t have to go too many rounds.”

“Don’t worry,” Jongin said. “It’ll be over sooner than you think,” he added as he placed the three community cards face up in the middle of the table.

They each took a look at their cards before the round began, starting with Chanyeol.

He took a look at his cards once more before making his move. “Call,” Chanyeol said.

Kyungsoo didn’t take long to make a decision of his own. “Call,” he said.

“Raise,” Jongin said.

Throughout the exchange on the table, Minseok remained silent. So Chanyeol almost forgot he was there until he made his presence known.

“Call,” Minseok said.

“Fold,” Junmyeon said, throwing his cards on the table and leaning back on his chair.

Jongin sighed. “Are you seriously going to play like that again?” he asked as he added one more card into the middle.

“You’ve forced me into yet another game of poker after I’ve told you time and time how much I hated any and all kinds of gambling,” Junmyeon said.

“No one forced you, hyung,” Chanyeol said, seeing as he had little chances to win this round with his bad pair of cards. “You’re the one who immediately put your money on the table as soon as you learned how much the buy-in was. Could’ve stayed out,” he added. “Fold.”

“Then I quit entirely,” Junmyeon said.

“Check,” Kyungsoo said. “The sooner you go all-in, the sooner you’ll lose, the sooner the game will end, and the sooner we get what we came here for and leave.”

Jongin chuckled. “I promise not to include you next time. It’s just, it’s so easy to win money off of you,” he said. “Bet.”

“Raise,” Minseok said. “Not that it’s fun.”

“I feel like I’m being scammed right now,” Junmyeon said.

Jongin added the last card on the table and they all revealed their cards, Minseok won with a straight.

Chanyeol noted that he didn’t have any pairs at the beginning, which is the most common winning hand in poker, and the last card revealed was the one he needed to win.

Guess this is how people who spent the majority of their time playing poker played. And Chanyeol wasn’t the least bit surprised.

“It’s such a boring game,” Junmyeon said.

Jongin was already shuffling the cards and getting everything ready for their second game. “Only because you don’t know how to play,” he said.

Hearing that might have riled him up, because Junmyeon didn’t fold until the third round. Jongin ended up winning with two pairs.

They were good at poker. And it could either be the reason they were always here or _because_ they were always there.

Junmyeon seemed sick of the game already, and he didn’t bother hiding it as he idly tended to his drink and watched things unfold. No one could even tell the three were cousins with the difference in behavior and lifestyle, despite having grown up together.

Because when the third game started and Junmyeon made it all the way to the last round without folding, and it was down to him and Chanyeol only, he went all in. Either he was confident with his hand or he really just wanted out. He didn’t seem to care that he would be losing 20 million won without even trying.

When they both revealed their cards, Chanyeol won.

“Hang on, we both got straights and I even got a J high, how did you win?” Junmyeon asked.

“Hyung, mine’s also a flush.”

“But—”

“You’re out!” Jongin said. “Well played, Park.”

“Weren’t you bored anyway?” Minseok told Junmyeon as he gathered the cards to shuffle them. “Just hand over your money and watch us play.”

As the fourth and fifth games went by quickly with Kyungsoo taking both wins— along with Junmyeon’s comments on how fast they played without him— they paused for a bit to order more drinks.

“Not bad for a Byun,” Jongin had chimed.

Chanyeol wasn’t sure if Jongin was referring to Kyungsoo as a Byun literally or just figuratively, because according to Baekhyun, no one knew of even a hint of the actual situation with Kyungsoo.

The latter didn’t seem bothered by it either way, so it must have been just a way for them to refer to one another in accordance to the crime syndicate they belonged in. It wouldn’t be this deep if it was just about their rivalry as companies in the _legitimate_ business industry.

“If you’re insinuating that Byuns are bad poker players,” Chanyeol said, taking the fastest glance in Minseok’s direction as he could, “then I beg to differ,” he added.

Minseok didn’t bat an eye at his words and continued shuffling the deck of cards.

Chanyeol felt a kick in the shin from his right, and although it was painful, he did well to mask the fact that anything happened underneath the table.

Junmyeon leaned in to whisper in Chanyeol’s ear, breath laced with alcohol. “Do you have a death wish?” he asked.

Chanyeol tilted his head towards Junmyeon, bringing his glass to cover his mouth. “No harm in having a little fun,” he said as he took a sip.

“Not when _it’s_ on edge, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon said as he sat back in his seat.

When they’ve decided to resume and the sixth game started, it happened too fast.

Jongin folded in the first round, leaving Minseok, Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo.

The informant thought he had a decent shot at winning, seeing as he had a really good pair of cards, and he could already see a hand worth a shot at going all in.

So he did, so did his opponents.

The last community card was revealed, and so were the pair of cards in each of their hands. Minseok ended up with a three of a kind, while Kyungsoo and himself had two pairs, making Minseok the winner of the set.

“I warned you,” Junmyeon said as Chanyeol watched his and Kyungsoo’s piles of money move towards Minseok’s side of the table.

“That was… something,” Chanyeol said.

“I wouldn’t have stood a chance,” Jongin said as he shuffled the cards. “I know Minseok hyung well enough to tell when to back out.”

“Now it’s down to just us again, hyung!” Jongin said as he dealt the cards.

“Let’s end it here, then,” Minseok said, flipping his cards up to his side to check, them sliding them back down facing the table. “I have to leave in a bit.”

Jongin ended up winning the entire game, and Minseok left right after handing him all the money without saying a word.

It was finally over.

Now that Jongin got the game he asked for, he would start talking. Chanyeol silently waited for Jongin to initiate. This was their deal, after all, and it was a plus that Jongin won the game.

Junmyeon finished his drink and got up. “I’ll wait for you in the car,” he said.

Jongin occupied himself with rearranging the cards and the money he had won until everyone— including the staff that had been collecting their empty glasses— left.

Once he was done with the cards, he took a deep breath and looked at both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.

“So,” Jongin said. “Lee Kangmin, right?” he asked.

Chanyeol straightened up in his seat and rested an arm on the tabletop.

“Yes. He came here often a while back,” Chanyeol said.

Jongin picked up his recently refilled glass and took a sip. “I remember him, yeah,” he said. “The room manager told me that he was some kind of higher up at the Byuns’, I wouldn’t have allowed him back here otherwise.”

“He was somewhat amusing,” Jongin said. “Well, as amusing as I could find at the time. He ran his mouth quite a lot,” Jongin glanced at Kyungsoo as he spoke his next words. “Might’ve spilled a company secret or two,” he shrugged.

“Couldn’t help but listen to those parts of our conversations carefully, sorry~”

Chanyeol looked at Kyungsoo, who didn’t seem to be phased at all.

Jongin took his silence and lack of reaction as a sign to continue. “His visits got a bit too frequent until he started losing more money than he had,” he said. “So I loaned him a generous amount, and I thought I wouldn’t get it back for a while.”

Chanyeol nodded for him to continue. He was glad he had decided to start an audio recording the moment he left the car. He only hoped Jongin’s voice wouldn’t turn out too muffled by his pocket.

“He was fast to pay me back, but stopped showing up right after he did,” Jongin said. “That’s pretty much everything significant about the guy that I bothered to remember.”

“Thanks for this, Jongin,” Chanyeol said. “I got what I needed, we can go now, Kyungsoo hyung.”

“I’ll see you around,” Chanyeol said as he left the room. Kyungsoo trailed not too far behind.

He had to find out how Kangmin came up with the money as quick as he did. Something wasn’t adding up— it didn’t come from his pay check, he most _definitely_ borrowed from someone else to pay Jongin back.

Even Chanyeol would rather owe anyone else but a _Kim_.

There was also a possibility that he could have stolen the money. But Chanyeol would have to see about that.

He had a feeling there would be a lot of running around in circles until he found out everything he needed about Lee Kangmin.

——————

Chanyeol might have had a bit too much to drink in Haeundae-gu.

The last thing he remembered was getting in the car with Junmyeon and Kyungsoo. He must have been passed out the entire ride, because they already made it back to the Byuns’ apartment complex in Nam-gu, where Junmyeon had just woken him up and dropped him off.

He still felt a little tired yet somewhat refreshed from the nap he had just taken. He winced and reached out to the side of his neck to rub at the stiff spot he got from his head being hung almost the entire car ride back.

Chanyeol fished out his keycard and set of keys from his pocket as he made his way to the entrance of the building, pausing for a second when he realised that Kyungsoo wasn’t with him. Shouldn’t he have been with them? He couldn’t even remember whether he had gotten in the car with them in the first place after they left the building.

Ah, no. Kyungsoo indeed _was_ there throughout the car ride. Chanyeol vaguely remembered regaining consciousness when the car came to a stop somewhere and Kyungsoo got off, leaving Chanyeol alone with Junmyeon. He even exchanged a couple of words with him, something about going on ahead and that he would be late.

This was precisely why Chanyeol cherished his sleep.

With the trouble he was having remembering his night right now, Chanyeol was thankful for the recording he had on his phone. As he was too tired, he would have to go through the entire audio file tomorrow.

He greeted the concierge on duty and he went past the security-locked glass doors to the elevators. He clicked the key to the floor his apartment was on and he leaned towards one side, waiting for the doors to close.

Just as they did, a hand stretched out and forced them back open. Chanyeol fought back the urge to glare at the newcomer.

Baekhyun tapped his keycard for access to the penthouse level his apartment was located at, and without a word, stood by Chanyeol’s side as the elevator doors closed and it started ascending.

A couple of days had passed since Baekhyun surprised him in the hallway right outside his door, and it was strange seeing him dressed formally in his usual black on black suit again after having seen _that_ sight.

Chanyeol glanced to his side. With Baekhyun standing a few inches in front of him, he couldn’t quite see the expression on the COO’s face. His hair did seem a bit unkempt— as did his suit jacket. His coat hung down one of his arms while his other hand held up his phone to his face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Kyungsoo?” Baekhyun asked, breaking the awkward silence only Chanyeol seemed to be feeling.

“Mm, we dropped him off elsewhere, said he had something to do,” Chanyeol said.

The elevator always seemed so fast. Just not at that moment— not when Chanyeol desperately wanted it to be.

_“We?”_ Baekhyun echoed.

_12_ _ th _ _._

“Junmyeon hyung.”

_13_ _th_.

Almost there. Chanyeol stared long and hard at the digital number on top of the door. He pulled away from the side of the elevator and took a step closer to the doors as it came to a stop.

“This is m—” Chanyeol tried to say.

Baekhyun extended an arm in front of him, stopping him from leaving. He pressed the key that would prompt the elevator doors to close back up, clicking his tongue repeatedly.

“You’re coming up with me to tell me how it went,” Baekhyun said as he loosened up his necktie.

Chanyeol took a step back to where he was before. “Alright, guess that’s where I’m going.”

The rest of the elevator ride passed by quietly. When they got to the top floor, Baekhyun gestured for Chanyeol to go ahead, to which Chanyeol did.

His apartment’s entrance hall lit up automatically as the two of them stepped outside the elevator and proceeded to take their shoes off.

Chanyeol was faster, and he stood by and waited for Baekhyun to finish.

“Go on ahead to my office,” Baekhyun said.

The informant nodded and did as he was told.

He had a hard time taking this situation in, especially since this was the longest he had been alone with Baekhyun since he cut open his scar two nights before. The most awkward part about the situation was that Baekhyun seemed to be pretending he didn’t have anything to do with the ordeal hidden behind the visible bandage on his face.

Chanyeol shrugged. Baekhyun had already done the worst that he could do, that much Chanyeol was sure of. There shouldn’t be anything left for him to fear about being alone with the guy— unless of course, he suddenly felt the urge or need to kill him for what he knew. 

So he made his way to the office and he took the liberty of switching on a couple of table lamps as he walked farther to the other end of the room.

Eventually, he stopped by the window to take in the sight below him. The view was similar to the one he had in his own apartment stories below Baekhyun’s, yet there was so much more to take in with the added height.

He could hear Baekhyun moving around in the other room until he emerged by the door. Chanyeol could see him holding a bottle of red wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.

Chanyeol turned around and watched him. He couldn’t take anymore alcohol tonight, so he silently prayed the other wasn’t for him and that Baekhyun just liked to have a spare glass on near him at all times.

Baekhyun sat down on the sofa and placed everything on the coffee table. And it soon became apparent that Chanyeol’s silent prayers weren’t going to be answered, because as soon as Baekhyun finished pouring the customary amount into one glass, he poured a generous one into the other.

Not wanting to reject the other’s offer as he didn’t want to drink at the moment, Chanyeol remained by the window and he opted to pace near it instead of sitting next to Baekhyun.

He definitely preferred keeping some distance from him at the moment. After all, he was only here to tell Baekhyun what he wanted to know and hear, and he was going to leave right after.

Being the dangerous man that he was, Chanyeol thought it wise not to stick around Byun Baekhyun for too long, especially not in his apartment of all places.

He could see Baekhyun rubbing at his temples as he picked up his glass to drink it.

“Chanyeol, sit down,” he said, bringing his hand away from his face. “I had a long day as it is,” he added.

The informant stopped in his strides and walked closer to the sofa Baekhyun was sitting on.

“Then maybe we should do this some other time,” said Chanyeol.

“Just sit down and tell me how it went with the Kims already,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol rolled his eyes and sat at the other edge of the sofa Baekhyun occupied. As soon as he got comfortable, Baekhyun picked up the other glass and handed it to him. And knowing damn well he couldn’t say no to the man, Chanyeol took it.

He would drink at the slowest pace as he could as to not give Baekhyun an excuse to refill his glass like last time. Besides, he already had too much to drink— although just the elevator ride with Baekhyun was enough to sober him up a bit.

Chanyeol cleared his throat. “For starers, the information cost more than it should have,” he said. “And I’m not just talking about the financial costs.”

Baekhyun nodded. “As expected of Kim Jongin— quite a handful, isn’t he?”

“Not as much as his cousin is,” Chanyeol said, taking a small sip of his drink.

“Which one of the two?” Baekhyun asked.

“Minseok,” Chanyeol responded. “Too many rules just to sit at the same table as him. No fun.”

_“He_ was there?” Baekhyun asked. “Shame I turned Kyungsoo down when he asked me to tag along,” he added. “Well? Was the info you got of any use, then?”

_That_ would have been a disaster and probably would have screwed the entire thing up for Chanyeol.

“All information is useful,” Chanyeol began, putting his glass down on the table. “Although it does depend on how you use it; specifically whether or not you’re able to connect it to other information you’ve gathered. It’s not always easy work,” he said.

Baekhyun nodded. “Because if it were, everyone would be able to do what you do, hm?”

“Exactly,” Chanyeol said, bringing one of his legs up on the sofa and turning his body to face Baekhyun. “In any case, I don’t think it was Lee kangmin. It certainly looks like he’s been up to some shady shit, but I don’t think it’s murder. I’ll have his file finished up by tomorrow and I’ll bring it right up to you after.”

The COO raised a brow. “That soon?” he asked.

Each time Baekhyun took a tone to throw doubt at Chanyeol’s abilities, all the informant wanted to do was take a defensive stance and question why he brought him to Busan if he thought he was that useless. And at the same time, he didn’t want to give Baekhyun the satisfaction of knowing it bothered him even the slightest bit.

He would rather _show_ Baekhyun just how good he was— that he was an information broker worthy of the reputation he had.

“I work fast,” Chanyeol decided to say. “Besides, I don’t want to stick around the city for too long.”

“So you’ve claimed before,” Baekhyun said. “And I’ve yet to see you show any signs of that. You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side. He didn’t know what he did or said to imply that he _wanted_ to be there. He _would_ be if it were any useful to him and his personal business, but until it was proven otherwise, he would stick to his main plan.

To finish and get the hell out of there.

“Is that all, then? Or do you have more questions for me?”

Baekhyun didn’t miss a beat before retorting. “Why was Junmyeon with you?”

Since he had told him in the elevator that Junmyeon was indeed with them, something about the shift of focus in Baekhyun’s eyes told Chanyeol that he didn’t like it, and that he would be seeking for answers as to why when the moment was right.

And what better topic to keep him grounded in the apartment just when he was about to finally make his escape?

“We couldn’t have gotten in without him,” Chanyeol said. “Besides, you said it was fine as long as you or Kyungsoo hyung tagged along, remember?”

Baekhyun hummed. There shouldn’t be anything for him to say to press on the matter any further because it wasn’t like Chanyeol was breaking the contract that way.

One search through Baekhyun’s eyes told Chanyeol that this wasn’t the end of it. There was something in his gaze that seemed unsatisfied with the situation or Chanyeol’s answer— whichever one it was, it looked like he couldn’t say anything about it.

In the midst of their silent stare-off, the side of Baekhyun’s lips curved up ever so slightly and he let out a puff of breath through his nose before he turned around and sipped the remaining wine in his glass.

“Did you ever stop to think _why_ a man in his position would bother with a kid like you?” Baekhyun asked.

He wasn’t going to let the Junmyeon topic go that easily, it seemed. Chanyeol wasn’t amused about that.

“Why are _you_ if that’s all you think I am?” Chanyeol countered.

“It’s different now— you’ve built a name for yourself,” Baekhyun said. “I’m talking about back then when you two first met.”

Chanyeol _had_ thought about it before. Many, many times. But because Junmyeon had always been good to him and because he never sensed any bad intentions— nor did he ever _see_ any, it forced him to turn a blind eye as to _why_.

It was coincidence— maybe not for Chanyeol, as he and Strike had _planned_ said coincidence for Junmyeon to have. All he had to do was leave the rest for Junmyeon, and it went better than expected.

As to _why_ Junmyeon went along with it, he didn’t know. He never asked. Their relationship kept evolving faster than he could process; until one day, he forgot a time in which he didn’t know, didn’t trust, or didn’t heavily rely on Kim Junmyeon.

Not once did he consider whether Junmyeon had any hidden ill intentions with him or not. And he couldn’t.

Junmyeon did the exact thing the night prior, too. And every other time he had spoken to him since he accepted this job. Both constantly tried to pit the other against Chanyeol using perplexed warnings and questions that only opened doors for more questions in Chanyeol’s mind without an answer in sight.

And man did he hate it when people did that with him.

Even so, it made finally finding the answers more rewarding. But of course, he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to try to pull answers from Baekhyun since Junmyeon had long since mastered dodging his questions.

Chanyeol brought a hand up to his face and extended a finger to where he knew his scar was, only to ball up his fist when he felt a bandage in place of the skin he was aiming to touch. He retrieved his hand, noting Baekhyun wasn’t even looking at him. He seemed to have stayed silent a second too long, because Baekhyun already got tired of waiting for his answer.

“Guess you haven’t given it as much consideration as you should have,” Baekhyun said.

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol asked.

“Nothing~” Baekhyun said. “It’s none of my business what you do with that limpdick anyway.”

Chanyeol frowned, immediately switching to defensive mode. Hearing Junmyeon’s name being slandered like that, _especially_ by the likes of Byun Baekhyun, made his blood boil.

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

And the bastard merely chuckled, clearly entertained by the reaction he had gotten for his words. Thankfully, Chanyeol had built more than enough self discipline over the years not to give off everything he had been feeling so easily.

He softened up the expression on his face as he watched Baekhyun.

“Look, I’ve known him my entire life,” Baekhyun said. “I just think maybe you shouldn’t brush my words off too quickly.”

“Then how about you stop being cryptic and tell me _why_ I shouldn’t trust him instead?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun pursed his lips. “And take away all the fun of watching you chase the truth around?” he asked.

If it wasn’t already clear enough that Baekhyun enjoyed doing things like this to Chanyeol, this was a confirmation.

Chanyeol didn’t falter and didn’t let his features betray him again. He smirked.

“Nothing’s ever that easy in your world,” he said.

“Mhm, everything comes with a price,” Baekhyun said. “Want something? You have to pay to get it, no matter how big or small. Hell, I’m paying you for your time and expertise right now, aren’t I?” he asked. “So in a way, you’re part of this world too.”

Baekhyun paused to pour more wine in his glass. He picked his glass up only after it was filled to the brim, and turned his head back to Chanyeol.

“There’s no such thing as favours because you’d have to repay them one way or another. Be it with money, or something in return.”

He looked away and looked like he hesitated for a second before saying what he said after.

“Even if you’ve done something, you’ll have to pay for it sooner or later.”

And maybe there was a deeper meaning behind his words. Maybe the hurt that Chanyeol saw in Baekhyun’s eyes that Chanyeol swore was there for a second was a part of his imagination. He would never know now since it disappeared the exact second it made itself present.

Of course, he wouldn’t let Chanyeol’s mind linger on the thought for long, as he wasn’t done speaking.

“While we’re on the subject, I wanted to let you know that the only reason I did what I did was because I wanted to get my point across for you loud and clear,” Baekhyun said as he pointed his wine glass towards Chanyeol’s face. “I hope I did, because I don’t want to be forced to do something like that to your pretty face again.”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened then narrowed into a frown. What was he on about?

“No hard feelings?” Baekhyun said.

The informant scoffed. “No proper apology, no chance.”

“I don’t apologise for things I don’t regret doing, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol clicked his tongue and stood up. So much for not giving Baekhyun the satisfaction.

“I’m leaving,” he said.

Baekhyun started laughing obnoxiously at him as he exited the room.

“Have a good night!” Baekhyun yelled out.

——————

As soon as Chanyeol woke up the next after noon, he sat down on his desk to start compiling all the recently attained information, courtesy of one Kim Jongin.

The informant began with listening to the audio file from the night before while taking note of the important information he had received.

He drew up Kangmin’s file. 40 years old, married to 37 year old Choi Dahee. They live in a house a tad too large for just the two of them in Suyeong-gu. From what Chanyeol had gathered, the man’s entire life had been normal up until the point at which he decided to get into this line of work. Often in people involved with organised crime such as the one Kangmin had been associated with, Chanyeol found a troubled past littered with petty crimes, or at least a dysfunctional family. He had found neither of those on Lee Kangmin.

Thus when he took his gambling to the Kims after Byun Baekbeom took over as president and lost a lot of money after a while, and Kim Jongin offered him a loan— it clicked in Chanyeol’s mind that this man was least likely to commit murder. Then Chanyeol learned that he paid back too quickly for someone who had supposedly been broke at the time, which left an open question as to how he got the money.

While Baekhyun and Kyungsoo took his affiliation with a gambling room owned by the Kims as a sign of potential defection, Chanyeol’s perspective on the matter saw this as merely a man with an uncontrollable thirst towards the thrill of gambling. Yes, the entire situation was questionable, but Chanyeol doubted any of this was linked to Baekbeom’s _murder_. He would still see this to the end, as per requested.

A notification tone from his work phone— something he had been waiting to confirm for the past couple of hours— took his attention away from his computer screen.

**From Unknown:**

Found the loanshark. Kangmin was seen leaving his office building in Geumjeong-gu two days ago. Name’s Oh Sehun.

Chanyeol texted back a quick thanks and sighed in relief. He had his suspicions— Junmyeon had told him of times frequent gamblers were referred to get loans from Sehun. Jongin probably referred Kangmin there himself, and it wouldn’t come to him as a surprise if he chose to leave that little detail out earlier.

Sehun was a loanshark under the protection of the Kims— more specifically, under the protection of Junmyeon. Besides himself, Sehun was the only other person Junmyeon was fond of.

That was how Chanyeol was also in good terms with Sehun. He could call him straight away to get what he needed from him and it wouldn’t pose as big of a hassle as it did with Jongin. It wouldn’t cost anything, either. 

Even though it was almost midnight, he knew it would be okay for him to give him a quick call.

Chanyeol grabbed his personal phone and scrolled through his contacts list until he found Sehun’s name and tapped it, then he brought his phone to his ear and waited.

_“Yeah?”_ Sehun answered.

“I know it’s late, but I just wanted to know if you’ve loaned money to a Lee Kangmin?” Chanyeol asked.

Sehun hummed. _“Just a second,”_ he said.

He could hear the sound of him tapping away at a keyboard without another word, before he got back to him.

_“I did,”_ Sehun said.

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “Would you tell me more?”

Sehun was quiet, as if contemplating whether he should or not. At least that was what Chanyeol thought his silence had meant until he heard a door shut closed in the background— probably someone leaving the room Sehun was in.

_“Mm,”_ Sehun finally broke the silence. _“I loaned him money a month ago and he was supposed to follow a weekly repayment schedule but he didn’t pay a thing throughout,”_ he said. _“I was about to send someone to find him but he came to me begging for more time because he was still trying to_ find a way _to come up with the money. Then the next day he was back to pay off his entire loan plus interest.”_

Chanyeol raised a brow at that. First with Jongin, then with Sehun. It couldn’t have possibly been yet another loan to pay off the one he had with Sehun, could it?

“So he went from not being able to pay, to returning everything he’s borrowed in less than 24 hours?” Chanyeol asked.

_“Yeah,”_ Sehun said. _“And the amount without interest was large as it is. Nothing a month’s worth of pay check in neither of his jobs could’ve handled, if that’s what he was waiting for.”_

Seeing as though Chanyeol had those details as well, Sehun was right. So how did he manage? According to what he found, he had zeroed out his debit cards and maxed out his credit cards, which was why he got in trouble in the first place— it was also looking like it was going to cost him his marriage, but that was another story.

“And this was from his visit two days ago, am I right?” Chanyeol asked.

_“You’ve done your research,”_ Sehun said. _“It was.”_

“I see. Thanks for this, Sehun. I owe you one~” Chanyeol said. And maybe he could have done without the last part.

_“No need,”_ Sehun said, and Chanyeol would have sighed in relief had he not continued his sentence. _“Just treat me for dinner and we’ll be even.”_

The informant had to hold himself back from sighing. “Alright,” he said instead. “I’ll let you know when my schedule clears up,” he said.

_“Okay,”_ Sehun said.

“I’ll talk to you later, then,” Chanyeol said.

Just like that, he ended the call.

As he thought earlier, this definitely wasn’t what Chanyeol was after, but he couldn’t leave it at that.

To stop himself from feeling like he was wasting time on the dead end that was Lee Kangmin, he had been having Hwang Sungil’s every move followed all week. And even that wasn’t going anywhere.

His work phone started ringing— and it was one of his more regular contacts calling, so he put his personal one back on top of his desk and grabbed the other to answer.

Looked like it was going to be a rather busy night for him.

“What have you got for me?” Chanyeol asked.

_“I’ve got confirmation for similar routes today. I’ll send you detail the usual way,”_ he was told.

Chanyeol pushed his chair out from under his desk and turned to face the view below him through the window. “Both of them, right?” he said.

_“Yeah,” the other said. “Although not entirely the case with Hwang. He left the office earlier than usual and took a detour to Sasang-gu instead of straight back home.”_

“Did he, now?” Chanyeol mused.

His home was in Nam-gu, according to what he had on him, and it meant that he didn’t have to commute to work. So he couldn’t say he was making a stop there before heading back for the day.

_“And word is, he’d met up with his girlfriend there— Song Sumi, the one you asked me to keep an eye out for as well?”_ he said. _“She didn’t have the symbol on either of her wrists, as you suspected.”_

It was hard to tell whether she did or not through pictures. There wasn’t that many of her to begin with, and she always wore sleeves too long to reveal anything. This only meant that she wasn’t involved in the _family_ _business_ , and it cleared out Sungil as well in one way, at least.

_“Heard from the Songs’ current housekeeper that she isn’t too keen on her family’s line of work anyway, so it adds up,”_ the man at the other end of the line continued. _“Her father isn’t too thrilled of her dating someone working for the Byun Group, though he knows of Hwang’s lack of awareness towards what goes on in the shadows there. So he allows it.”_

“Hmm. And there’s nothing that could link him to Baekbeom’s murder, right?”

Chanyeol turned his chair back to face his computer, and he opened a banking tab on his browser and quickly typed in the details of an account with an alias.

_“Nothing. I heard, he looked up to Byun Baekbeom for some reason. He took the news pretty hard at the time,”_ the man told him.

Chanyeol listened in as he waited for the page to load.

“I see,” he said. “Anything on Jung Hosung?” he asked as he waited for the transfer page to open up.

_“Nothing new,”_ he said. _“Hasn’t left Buk-gu since he’s taken his leave two weeks ago. He’s been holed up in his house since.”_

Chanyeol input the amount and sent it after making sure it was to the correct account.

“Ah,” Chanyeol said as he backed away from the computer once more and stretched the arm that wasn’t holding onto the phone. “That’ll be enough for now, then. Be in touch again if you can offer me anything new,” he said.

He heard a few clicks on the other end of the call, not receiving an immediate response from the other.

_“Isn’t this a bit much?”_ he asked.

Chanyeol smiled, amused at the reaction. “My client’s pretty generous,” he left it at that. “There’ll be more where that came from if you dug around more on Jung.”

The other laughed. _“Got it. I’ll be in touch, then,”_ he said.

Ending the phone call, Chanyeol saw no need to document this new information straight away as his contact would be sending it to him anyway, so he signed off the computer and grabbed both of his phones with him to the sofa, where he threw his body down to lay on it.

The thought of going to bed earlier than usual crossed his mind, but he wasn’t tired enough to sleep straight away.

He grabbed his personal phone and started idly switching from app to another, checking to see if there was anything interesting worth distracting himself with.

It was one of those nights in which he felt like there was still something worth staying awake for; something worth wasting a little time he could use to get a decent night of sleep for once— or maybe time to reflect a little.

On top of being nowhere near done with Baekhyun’s job, especially since it had been looking like neither of the three Baekhyun and Kyungsoo had suspected are who they were looking for— he was also nowhere near finding any new information on his father here either.

Maybe it was time he started looking. If Baekhyun let him go after he finished this job for him, what other excuse could he give himself for staying in the city he despised so much?

He would withhold everything he had gotten so far from Baekhyun, but then he would lose whatever credibility he had that remained in Baekhyun’s eyes. He already saw him unfit for the job and had said so multiple times, and Chanyeol could kill to prove him wrong— mostly because he knew he would enjoy the look on Baekhyun’s face.

With a few taps, he set a reminder on his phone to ask his new trusted contact on anything regarding his father, then he set it back on the coffee table after locking the screen.

The informant laid his head back down to look at the plain ceiling over him and he sighed. Perhaps sleep was the better choice because he was otherwise _bored_ out of his mind waiting for more to work with.

Just as he sat up to go to his bedroom, his personal phone started ringing— the ID read _Baekhyun._

Chanyeol couldn’t help the chill that snaked its way up his spine just from seeing his name.

He took in a shaky breath and picked up his phone, slid his thumb across the bottom of the screen.

“What do you want?” he wasted no time in asking.

Baekhyun’s low chuckle resonated across. _“Entertainment,”_ he said. _“I’m bored.”_

Chanyeol would have scoffed at Baekhyun’s face if he could have. Why was he telling him this, anyway?

“And what do you expect me to do about that?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun hummed, as if considering his answer. It was complete bullshit if Chanyeol was asked, because Baekhyun clearly called with an agenda.

_“Come up and keep me company.”_

And there it was.

Baekhyun sounded a bit too chipper over the phone, and it made Chanyeol wonder what he was on.

The question was, how badly did he hate his life to want to accept this offer so easily? Especially knowing how unpredictable the Byun was. One moment he was harmless and charming, the next he could be holding a knife to someone’s throat threatening to end them slowly and painfully.

Did Chanyeol _really_ want to spend another night alone with the very man who snuck in his apartment, probably watched him sleep for quite some time, and waited for him to wake up with a pocket knife in hand? The one responsible for the still healing wound on the bridge of his nose?

Not really. Especially not _that_ one.

But the one on the phone with him at the moment? Maybe.

If Baekhyun’s mood remained that way— and if Chanyeol didn’t do anything to provoke him like last time, maybe he would enjoy spending time he could use resting with Baekhyun. Maybe Baekhyun wasn’t as bad as he presented himself to be.

After all— the informant had to admit he was drawn to Baekhyun in someway. He wanted to spend more time with him, he wanted to get to know him beyond the front he put up for everyone else to see. He wanted to know things he couldn’t find on databases, things he wouldn’t find from having Baekhyun followed around or asking about him.

With those thoughts in his mind, he was compelled to say “Fine.”

He hung up before hearing what Baekhyun had to say to that. He didn’t bother changing his clothes this time either, he merely grabbed his phones, pocketed them, and left his apartment.

The elevator took painstakingly long to reach his floor this time— and even longer to go up to Baekhyun’s apartment.

Chanyeol slowly walked through the familiar hallway that led to Baekhyun’s living room, and this time, he knew where to go when he couldn’t find Baekhyun there.

He found the door left ajar, so he didn’t bother knocking, slightly pushing it open and making his way inside.

Baekhyun sat atop his desk with his legs crossed, right hand holding up the customary glass of scotch, and he faced the window. Chanyeol could see Baekhyun’s reflection focused less on his view beyond the window, and more on the image behind his back. His eyes were on Chanyeol as soon as he entered the room, and he smiled.

Chanyeol ignored him and made himself comfortable on the sofa, and only then did Baekhyun jump off his desk.

“You seem to have done a lot of work today,” Baekhyun said. He walked around his desk to sit on the other edge of the sofa that Chanyeol occupied. “Although you haven’t been as fast as you so boldly claimed you’d be.”

The informant had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “What’s your point?” he asked.

He knew exactly what his point was. And Chanyeol _had_ had everything planned and would have gone through his schedule properly if it wasn’t for the man sitting beside him.

“It’s been six whole days and the most significant thing you’ve done is breach our contract by meeting up with Kim Junmyeon all the while making complete fools out of the men I appointed to keep an eye on you,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol stifled a laugh as he recalled how easily it had been, then cleared his throat. “I still don’t see what you’re trying to get at,” he said.

Baekhyun hummed. He didn’t seem angry, and although Chanyeol had a feeling Baekhyun knew that he was just messing with him, he still humoured him with a response. “If I end up decapitated as well because you couldn’t fish out this traitor fast enough, who’s to take responsibility?” he asked.

“Have you heard of the saying, _perseverance kills the game,_ hyung?” Chanyeol retorted instead.

“I have,” Baekhyun said then stood up from where he was seated. “Clock’s still ticking as we speak, though.”

Chanyeol’s brows furrowed. “So you’re telling me I’m wasting time when you’re the one who called me up here to _entertain_ you,” he said.

The cushions beneath Chanyeol dipped, and it made him whip his head to his right to find that Baekhyun had relocated to sit closer to him instead. He turned back to keep his gaze focused ahead of him instead.

Perhaps it wasn’t the right choice seeing as Baekhyun’s arm resting over his shoulder demanded his full attention.

“Maybe it was a test and you failed,” Baekhyun whispered close to his ear.

Chanyeol didn’t let it phase him. “I’d have been done by now if it wasn’t for a minor setback in schedule,” he said.

Baekhyun chuckled, and Chanyeol could almost taste the whisky he was smelling. “You’re still angry about that?” he asked, voice lower and more soft spoken than usual.

“No,” Chanyeol said, leaning away a little. “I’m still living on the satisfaction from the look on your face, though,” he said. “I’m only annoyed because that scar was finally starting to fade away and you managed to make it permanent.”

Baekhyun didn’t budge, and only moved along with Chanyeol. “It’s nothing modern technology can’t get rid of,” he said, “and it’s not like you lack the finances for such luxury,” he added. “That is, if you really wanted to have it removed.”

With a glance to the side, he could see Baekhyun’s other hand moving closer to his face, and he followed it until he found himself having to cross his eyes to continue.

Then those fingers slowly ripped the bandage off, tossing it to the side. He traced a slender middle finger along where Chanyeol knew his scar was.

“It suits you.”

Baekhyun retrieved his hand.

Chanyeol hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until then. He also hadn’t realised that he had leaned so far back, that he was lying down on the couch with Baekhyun practically hovering on top of him with one hand holding himself up. The other hand grasped a tight hold on Chanyeol’s wrist. And when he turned his head up properly to look at the Byun, his breath got caught in his throat once more.

There was something about the way the shadows in the dimly lit office played across Baekhyun’s face that made his features look far more delicate, far more credulous than Chanyeol knew damn well he was as they both stared into each other’s eyes. There was something about the way Baekhyun looked at him that made him forget who he was; that made him forget that this was the very man that had cut open a healing scar on his nose just a few days prior.

As Baekhyun got closer and started tilting his head, Chanyeol allowed his eyes to droop shut.

It scared him. Especially when Baekhyun leaned closer and he allowed it. When Baekhyun’s lips brushed against his and he welcomed it.

Baekhyun’s kiss was rough and his movement was harsh, but Chanyeol took it all in, only wanting more. He couldn’t find a reason to protest, let alone the desire to. He could taste an array of flavours that could have been whatever Baekhyun had for dinner in addition to the strongly present scotch he was just tending to.

He didn’t know what came over him when he greedily leaned into the kiss. His entire body became filled with desire that even he couldn’t make sense of. He wanted this badly, but he couldn’t understand why.

Maybe the pull he had always felt since he met Baekhyun had been attraction or just that, _desire._ Chanyeol had never felt that before to comprehend it in the first place.

A moan stirred from Baekhyun’s throat and it made Chanyeol shiver.

He felt a fire light up in him— the desire was spreading through his body like wildfire. He was starting to lose control of his body, his mind, and his senses in Baekhyun’s taste and he couldn’t get enough.

Then at once, Baekhyun slowed down until his pace was ceased completely. Chanyeol opened his eyes halfway to see why he had stopped. Instead, he watched as Baekhyun pulled away and brought the hand that had a grip on Chanyeol’s wrist up to run his thumb across his lower lip while looking Chanyeol in the eye.

He pushed himself up until he sat back on the couch, then he stood up and dusted himself off.

“I’m going to bed,” he said as he started walking out of his own office. “You can see yourself out.”

Long after he was gone, Chanyeol remained a breathy mess on the couch, unable to grasp what had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really hope you're all enjoying the fic as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡♡ 
> 
> please do let me know what you think in the comments if you have some time!! 
> 
> until next time (≧◡≦)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more character introduction and a little more on chanyeol's past and his relationship with junmyeon! 
> 
> enjoy ♡♡♡

Chanyeol had arrived in time for his fake job at the Byun Group headquarters for once.

He remained seated at the backseat of the driver’s car as he kept tabs on Lee Kangmin’s whereabouts and how long it would take him to get to the building’s driveway through his contacts.

As he received the message informing him that Kangmin’s car was just around the corner, Chanyeol locked his phone and put it in his pocket. He looked up just in time to see Kangmin’s driver park just behind his through the rearview mirror.

When he saw Kangmin leave the car, he fixed his tie and suit jacket up and got out of the car to follow him.

The other was too busy with something on his phone to take note of Chanyeol tailing behind him— not that Chanyeol made it any obvious to the unsuspecting eye.

Chanyeol followed him to the elevator, and instead of heading straight up to his office on the 23rd floor, Kangmin chose the 14th. He raised a brow at that and contemplated following him to see what business the Byun Group’s executive director had at the IT department, because he sure as hell wasn’t in charge of anything they do there. He decided against it as he pressed the button for the 23rd floor for himself.

As he recalled from Kyungsoo, Kangmin had an important board meeting to attend, and that was mere minutes away from starting. What was it that he had to do there that couldn’t wait until after the meeting?

Whatever it was, he was going to find out before the end of the day. Chanyeol had a plan.

Kyungsoo was the first person he saw when he got to the 23rd floor. He wasted no time in asking Chanyeol do something— taking full advantage of having another intern to boss around while he was still there.

“Chanyeol—” Kyungsoo stopped in his haste in front of the elevator door, “you’re here,” he said.

“I’m supposed to be, aren’t I?” Chanyeol retorted.

Kyungsoo said nothing as he gestured for him to follow.

As there seemed to be time for him to spare before Kangmin got up there, he could afford to humour the vice president for a bit. So he followed Kyungsoo.

“Do you really think an intern as tardy as you would maintain a job here for as long as you have?” Kyungsoo asked as he opened the door to the supplies storage.

Chanyeol hummed as he followed him inside, making sure there wasn’t anyone else besides them before he spoke. “Right. Forgot I had to make this look realistic,” he said.

“What can I say, though? There are far more interesting things to do in Busan than a morning at a busy corporate headquarters doing the most minimal tasks and being Baekhyun hyung’s bitch,” Chanyeol added. “No wonder this isn’t the family’s only business.”

But he guessed there was nothing he could do other than comply. After all, Baekhyun _had_ sent one of his personal assistants away on a fully paid vacation so that he could give Chanyeol the position while he was doing what he actually came here to do.

Kyungsoo took out a bunch of notepads and a pack of pens from the shelves and handed them to Chanyeol. “Go set these up in the meeting room,” he said. “And please try to refrain from that talk here. You don’t know who could be listening.”

“Don’t _you_ have assistants to do this sort of thing?” Chanyeol asked. “And don’t worry, I’m aware of my surroundings.”

“I do, but they’re attending to something more important in the meeting room. Since you’re the only other person available, it makes it _your_ job,” Kyungsoo said.

“Whatever you say,” Chanyeol shrugged.

He watched Kyungsoo take note of the stationery he had taken, leaving the piece of paper on the desk of whoever worked the supplies storage. Who, Chanyeol added, wasn’t doing a very good job manning their own desk if the vice president had to go out of his way to get that done.

Not that it was any of Chanyeol’s business. Speaking of, he didn’t forget the specific reason he even showed up in the first place for.

“I actually have a question to ask you about one of them,” Chanyeol said.

Kyungsoo turned around. “Meet me back in my office after you take those to the meeting room,” he said as he walked out. “And be quick— there’s last minute preparations I need to make before it starts.”

Chanyeol nodded.

He followed Kyungsoo outside and took the opposite direction towards the room the board meeting was to be held at.

Kyungsoo’s assistants were already there— no doubt attending to those important matters Kyungsoo spoke of— scurrying around to get everything ready. They had about half an hour left, so it was justifiable that they were in such a state.

Chanyeol placed the stationery on the table and informed them that he had brought them over as asked, then left them to take care of the rest. It _technically_ wasn’t his job, so it wasn’t his responsibility to stress over the wrath of higher ups. Besides, he was on a tight schedule as well. He _was_ being paid to do something else entirely, after all.

As he left the room and walked past the executive director’s office. He could see through the gap the small glass windows provided that he hadn’t come up yet from the IT department. So he went straight to Kyungsoo’s office, walking in without knocking and closing the door behind him.

Once he was inside, Kyungsoo dropped everything and looked at him.

“I’m all ears,” he said.

As he should be, given that he partly hired him for the job.

Chanyeol sat on the arm of the couch and crossed his arms. “I was wondering if you could tell me more about Jung Hosung’s drug consumption habits since you’re— well, in charge of that around here?” he asked, lowering his voice at the last part. “Surely you’d keep track of these things.”

Kyungsoo nodded. “We do, but I only recently took charge of that upon the death of Baekhyun’s brother,” he said.

This wasn’t information Chanyeol didn’t already know. He was about to press on the matter until Kyungsoo started writing something on a small paper.

“There’s been a delay in all the old data being transferred to me from the one who used to be in charge,” Kyungsoo said. “He kept making excuses, and I’ve honestly been too preoccupied with more important affairs in the present to follow up on that. Maybe you could get it out of him yourself.”

“Excuses?” Chanyeol asked. “As in, he might not even have the data in the first place?”

Kyungsoo finished writing and reached out to give Chanyeol the piece of paper. “He definitely has it all. I personally think he’s just too lazy to dig it up, it’s quite the large file and it would take longer than necessary to send,” he said. “Zhang Yixing, his office is two levels below.”

A foreigner. Chanyeol briefly wondered what language he would have to speak with him. He didn’t have to think about it for long as he looked down a the piece of paper and skimmed through Kyungsoo’s scribbling in hangul.

It was a threat to this Zhang Yixing.

“Just give him that and tell him I sent you,” Kyungsoo said. “Also that I’ll be alerting security that he won’t be allowed to leave the building early like he wanted to until he hands over everything to _you_ printed and emailed to me.”

“Pretty rough, aren’t you?” Chanyeol asked.

Kyungsoo got back to the notes he was going through before Chanyeol walked in. “Certain circumstances forced me to be,” he said as he flipped through the pages. “I’d come introduce you to him, but there’s still much to be done before the meeting and barely enough time to.”

Chanyeol waved his hands dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, I can manage.”

“Hm,” Kyungsoo looked up at him. “Just don’t forget that you’re only an intern around here.”

The informant got up and started walking out. “I won’t~” he said.

He stopped midway. “By the way, I’ve set up a meeting for us with a Kim Jongdae in a week’s time. I trust that you can clear up your schedule for that?” Chanyeol asked.

“As long as there’s no poker involved this time,” Kyungsoo said.

Chanyeol snickered. “I’ll send you the details soon,” he said as he exited the office.

He headed straight to the elevator— not without taking a peek at Kangmin’s office to see that no, he hadn’t made his way up yet.

It wasn’t a long wait until one of the elevators reached his floor. He got in and pressed the key for the 21st floor, and it only took a few seconds for the elevator to descend.

Chanyeol walked around, searching the nameplates near the doors to each office for the man in question’s name until he found it.

_General Manager: Zhang Yixing._

He knocked on the door and he listened carefully until the man told him to come in.

“H-hello,” Chanyeol said as he opened the door, feigning anxiousness. “Mr. Zhang?” he said.

Yixing nodded.

“I’m the new intern upstairs, Park Chanyeol,” he said. “Mr. Do sent me here,” he walked closer until he was standing in front of the man’s desk and he handed him the note, then backed away a reasonable distance.

Chanyeol continued speaking as Yixing read through the note. “Excuse my words, but he said to tell you that you won’t be allowed your early leave today until you send him all the data he needs,” he said.

Yixing looked back up after reading, an amused smile on his lips, clearly not phased by what was written.

He looked over Chanyeol’s entire figure and he hummed. “Red hair, abnormally tall,” he said. “You’re the informant Mr. Byun hired to snoop around his own company. Have a seat, won’t you?”

Chanyeol blinked. Kyungsoo told him to keep pretending, wasn’t that an indication that this man shouldn’t have known who he was?

“How did you—”

“Don’t worry,” Yixing said, “your _intern_ act was convincing enough. I’ll be sure to talk you up to Mr. Do next time I see him,”

It wasn’t Kyungsoo he needed to be talked up to. He seemed to trust _and_ believe in him enough. Even so, it didn’t hurt to have more of Kyungsoo’s faith in him and his abilities.

“Works for me,” Chanyeol said as he sat down. “So, about those documents?” he asked.

Yixing got his personal laptop out of its case and powered it on. “I’ll have them printed for you now,” he said. “After all, I’m under strict instructions to disclose any and all information _you_ may ask of me, so I have no say in the matter.”

Chanyeol nodded and watched him click and navigate until the wireless printer started printing.

He had his way with words, but something about him was unsettling. Chanyeol didn’t feel comfortable around Yixing _at all._ He couldn’t help but carefully and silently eye the man’s every move and overanalyse every word that slipped past those lips.

The thoughts going through his mind drowned out the noise emitting from the printer and Yixing’s typing and clicking on his laptop.

What was it that wasn’t sitting well with him about Yixing besides the off feeling in his stomach each time he smiled just now? Or maybe it was the feeling that the man seemed to know more than he let on? Or was it that he was letting on _too much?_

Chanyeol couldn’t place his finger on it. It seemed like there was more for him here. Was this why Kyungsoo had sent him rather than just call Yixing for access to this data himself?

“I’ve emailed him!” Chanyeol’s thoughts were interrupted when Yixing suddenly announced. “Anything else you need?” he asked.

“Not right now,” Chanyeol shook his head and gave a light smile, “but maybe later. Would it be too much trouble for you to give me your contact details?” he asked.

Yixing opened his desk drawer and pulled out a business card. “None at all,” he said.

While Chanyeol was used to others blindly trusting him with things, it didn’t feel right coming from a man in Zhang Yixing’s position. There was definitely something off here, and it was bugging Chanyeol to no ends. He hasn’t even been here for five minutes yet.

He got up and walked up to Yixing’s desk to accept the card, flipping it over to check out both sides before putting it in his pocket.

Yixing continued looking at him and Chanyeol stared back at him silently, then glanced at the printer on the other side of the office, as it was the only source of sound at that moment. It was taking a bit longer than necessary to print the document, too.

As if he read his thoughts, Yixing spoke up. “It’s over 10 years worth of data, so it’ll probably be a while till it’s all printed,” he said. “I’ll bring them up to Mr. Do’s office when I’m done,” he finished with a smile.

There it was again. The feeling in the pit of his stomach— accompanied by second hand embarrassment at Yixing’s way of basically kicking him out of his office.

Chanyeol merely nodded and thanked him before leaving. He had to stop himself from scampering off after feeling uneasy under the man’s gaze for a second longer than necessary.

On his way back to the top floor, he caught Lee Kangmin in the elevator— clearly having just finished whatever he had to do at the IT department. It wouldn’t be long until Chanyeol found out what exactly that was about.

When the elevator reached their floor, Chanyeol politely gestured for Kangmin to leave before he did, and he slowed down his steps to see where he was headed first. He watched in the hallway as Kangmin went in his office with his briefcase, and left without it to rush towards the meeting room, muttering something about being late.

The halls were empty now, as most employees in this floor were attending that meeting. Chanyeol took peeks in both Kyungsoo and Baekhyun’s offices to see that they weren’t there, which meant that the meeting had already started. It was time for it to start according to the time Kyungsoo had given him anyway. He shrugged and walked to Kangmin’s office’s door and he slipped inside.

He needed to be fast. Get what he needed and leave without being seen by absolutely anyone. He headed straight to the briefcase Kangmin had hastily thrown on his desk— the one thing he wouldn’t have access to later if he were to need anything else from Kangmin— and he took out his personal laptop. He threw his fist up in the air in victory when he found that his personal phone was there too; he hadn’t been counting on that so it was a plus.

Chanyeol booted up the laptop and while he waited for it, he went through his phone, thankful the older generation never bothered with a passcode or any other type of security for the matter. He forwarded all the relevant emails, both received _and_ sent, and texts to himself, then erased all the evidence he could have left behind while doing that.

Once he was done with the phone, he went through his laptop’s dashboard, where anyone was likely to leave important notes and details they needed to remember. He found one with banking details labelled questionably, and he captured those with his own phone’s camera. Seeing as there was nothing else he could get from his laptop that he couldn’t have gotten from his phone, he shut it down and put everything back inside the brief exactly how he had found them in the first place.

Before closing the bag back up, he spotted another phone inside one of the inner zippers. He raised a brow at that.

He knew more than anyone what the purpose of that phone was. From what he had seen from his personal phone and laptop, Kangmin was the type to leave everything out in the open. He was the type who didn’t bother keeping his business affairs— the legal ones at least— separated from his personal ones. So what was the use of having another phone besides somewhere to handle his dirty dealings?

Chanyeol grabbed the other phone and to his surprise, it also didn’t have a passcode. Strange for someone who clearly had things to hide.

He could see a notification from a contact named _Yoo from IT,_ and Chanyeol knew he found what he needed. He took pictures of the phone’s screen using his phone, and put it back where he had found it.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he got off Kangmin’s swivel chair, on which he may have gotten a tad too comfortable, and left the office.

When his back was turned as he was closing the door, a familiar voice with a heavy accent almost made him jump.

“There you are~” Yixing said.

Chanyeol turned around and flashed him with a smile. “Here I am,” he said.

Yixing smiled back and the unsettling feeling made itself present again. “Could you tell Mr. Do that I left the documents on his desk?” he asked.

“Sure thing,” Chanyeol nodded.

“Thank you!” Yixing said. Before he walked away, he glanced back at the door Chanyeol had just closed, then back at Chanyeol without a word.

He had a feeling he fucked up on that note.

Chanyeol brushed that encounter off and made his way to Kyungsoo’s office. He noted the stack of papers sitting on his desk, knowing it was meant for him— but he wasn’t going to go through all that for the information he needed when there was a perfectly convenient database in which he could spend less time looking for the things he wanted specifically.

He headed straight to Kyungsoo’s computer, and with ease, he found and forwarded the email Yixing had sent him containing the database. He didn’t bother getting rid of his tracks this time, he just took the stack of papers with him before leaving.

On his way to the elevator, he could see a figure he knew all too well walking his way.

Why could he still feel those delicate yet rough fingers wrapped around his wrist as if they were still there? Why could he still feel those soft _lips_ against his own as if _they_ were still there?

Chanyeol hadn’t seen or spoken to Baekhyun after what happened in his home office two nights prior.

And while Chanyeol couldn’t get his eyes off of the Byun, he didn’t even spare Chanyeol a glance as he walked past him.

The informant shook those thoughts off and kept moving forward. He couldn’t dwell on that now— not here. Not while he was on a roll with his work.

While everyone else was leaving the meeting room, Chanyeol headed towards it in hope of catching Kyungsoo for a little talk about what he put him through earlier with Yixing.

It wasn’t until he made it to the meeting room that he found Kyungsoo— he had stayed behind, it seemed.

Chanyeol gave the glass door a couple of taps with his knuckle to grab his attention.

“It’s done,” he said as he went inside and paced the large rectangular table in the middle of the room.

Kyungsoo nodded at him. “Did you need something else?” he asked.

With a shake of his head, Chanyeol jumped right into the reason he was here.

“Does Zhang Yixing know what I’m here for?”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shot up. “Only Baekhyun and myself know. Why?” He asked. “Did he indicate that he knew something?”

It was just as Chanyeol thought. He felt something was off with Yixing, and while he still didn’t know what it was, at least he knew he was onto something.

“No,” Chanyeol said. “I was just wondering.”

He definitely had his work cut out for him with this job— he needed to head back to his workspace to look into this a little further.

Chanyeol started heading towards the door. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

And he left the building.

——————

The informant spent almost the entirety of the next day going through everything he had accumulated on Lee Kangmin.

Out of everything he had found, the most significant thing was his messages with the IT guy. It turned out they were both embezzling money from the company, and it was how he paid off his loan from Oh Sehun. Although it was still evidence in one way, it wasn’t why he was hired to investigate Kangmin in the first place.

Chanyeol figured if his _unethical_ activities were easy to find on his private phone, that if he were to find anything to link to Byun Baekbeom’s murder, it would be there. But besides a few illegal transactions done from under Baekhyun’s nose, there wasn’t anything. Not even an arrangement to have any of his underlings do it _for_ him, since that was the type of man he had learned him to be.

Of course, he had done smaller, separate profiles on each of his loyal flunkies, and found nothing associating them to the murder, either.

As if he sensed he needed it, Kyungsoo had sent him security camera footage of the office building from the night the murder took place.

It turned out that Kangmin had only just left the office at the estimated hour of the crime— therefore couldn’t have possibly had enough time to make it to Baekbeom’s residence in Busanjin-gu. The sent footage also included a video on Hwang Sungil’s whereabouts that night, which was in the office working overtime past the hour in question. He was working to get some paperwork done _for_ Baekbeom and unless he was a good actor, he wouldn’t have bothered with those if he knew Baekbeom would never show up to the meeting the day after.

Kyungsoo couldn’t find any records of Jung Hosung’s location that night— not in the office, at least, but he said he would look through their other establishments and let him know.

Which brought on another waiting game for Chanyeol for the rest of the week until it was time for his meeting with Kim Jongdae. And that left him with the thoughts and feelings he temporarily tossed away in order to keep focused on his job.

Merely seeing Baekhyun and walking past him without being acknowledged, it turned out, had more of an effect on Chanyeol and his efficiency than he thought it would.

A _kiss_ did that. A very brief— and probably meaningless from Baekhyun’s end— kiss did _that_. He felt lightheaded each time he thought about it or him.

How was he supposed to continue this job with Baekhyun like this? How was he supposed to see him as often, to be in the same _room_ as him when just thinking of Baekhyun made him malfunction?

Earlier that evening, Chanyeol decided to get Lee Kangmin’s rather thick folder out of the way before working on Hwang Sungil. But how could he stay focused when images of Baekhyun from the night before kept popping up in his head? The properly styled hair, the perfectly tailored all black suit, that _stride_ as if not only did he own the entire place, but everyone in it too— how could he not overthink about it? How was he supposed to move on from the perfection of a being that was Byun Baekhyun?

As if to hand him the composure he needed, his work phone started ringing before things spiralled out of his control.

It was one of his contacts— he wasn’t expecting a call so soon. This was good, though, he needed something to keep him grounded to the reality of his situation and to remind him of the reason why he was here. And it wasn’t something he could get from Baekhyun only.

Chanyeol leaned against the back of his swivel chair as he answered and brought the phone up against his ear.

“What have you got for me?” he asked, skipping any formality.

_“I looked into Park Sungjin like you asked,”_ he was told.

Chanyeol would be lying if he said his eyes didn’t widen. His contact getting back to him meant that he found something.

But how? Chanyeol had spent _years_ digging through every corner he could get his hands on to find the least crucial detail about who his father was and found _nothing_ past his name and basic information.

Chanyeol’s breathing picked up a bit. “Did you find anything?” he asked.

_“Yeah, but it wasn’t easy at all,”_ he said. _“It’s like he didn’t exist. I did find an old acquaintance of his who worked closely with him, though.”_

The hand that didn’t have a tight grip on his phone was on the bridge of his nose on instinct. And he would be rubbing where the scar was if he could if he didn’t care about the bandage sliding off and the scab underneath it.

Chanyeol had so many questions but he didn’t know where to begin, and the suspense was nearly enough to knock him out.

He found someone who worked with him meaning he also found his workplace and what he did for a living? The words found a comfortable place in Chanyeol’s throat, and he couldn’t force them out.

_“I messaged you his contact info,”_ he said, saving Chanyeol the trouble of asking. _“I must warn you that he wasn’t willing to talk about anything related to Park. I offered to pay, but he didn’t take it. I thought maybe you’d be more persuasive.”_

Why? What kind of luck was this? After all he had been through, after all the struggles, why was it when he finally found a sliver of _something_ it was still out of reach?

Chanyeol took a deep breath. “Thanks. I’ll send you the money the usual way,” he said. “Can you just tell me where he worked?” he asked.

His contact hummed. _“Busan mainly,”_ he said, _“but he pretty much had networks all over the country.”_

Networks?

“Park did?” Chanyeol asked.

_“Yeah,”_ he said. _“We_ are _talking about the same information broker Park Sungjin, aren’t we?”_

Information broker Park Sungjin…

“I guess we are,” Chanyeol muttered. “I’ll wire you the money soon,” he said as he hung up.

Chanyeol’s arm slid down as he stared ahead of him into nothing in particular.

Why has it _never_ crossed his mind? Seeing as how he _himself_ was always caught in sticky situations because of his job and his involvement in things he had no personal attachments to, and _has_ been through instances from which death was a possible outcome, he should have known. He should have at least thought about the possibility of his father being in a similar, if not the same line of work as him.

Not sure what to do with these overwhelming feelings, Chanyeol left the apartment building and went to a nearby park.

He needed some fresh air and distance from anything to do with the Byuns before he made the inevitable phone call.

After making sure the park he arrived at was void of anyone— more specifically of Baekhyun’s _underlings_ — Chanyeol found a bench to his liking and sat down, taking in his surroundings.

Deciding to get it over with, he dialled the number and it only took a few seconds for the other end to pick up.

_“So you found me. I was hoping you wouldn’t,”_ the man’s voice came through loud and clear.

What was that supposed to mean? Did he already have Chanyeol’s contact information?

“I’m sorry?” Chanyeol questioned.

The man on the phone let out a sigh. _“You’re Sungjin’s son, aren’t you? Park Chanyeol?”_ he asked— but it wasn’t much of a question as it was a statement that needed confirmation.

Seeing as he already seemed to know who he was, Chanyeol deemed lying and dancing around the other’s words unnecessary

“I am,” Chanyeol said.

_“You’re nowhere near as good as he was,”_ he was told. _“Nor as smart for the matter. You’ve already done the stupidest thing you could’ve done.”_

Chanyeol raised a brow. “And that would be?”

The man seemed to be wary of his ways— as if he was used to them and knew exactly how to dodge them without giving into Chanyeol.

_“Quit digging around, kid,”_ he said. _“It won’t end well for anyone if you don’t stop now.”_

It was too late for that kind of talk. Chanyeol knew, and Junmyeon had been warning him for _years._

None of that mattered to Chanyeol. It never did. Everyone around him could try to talk him out of trying to find out the truth about what happened to his father all day long, but it was impossible for him to stop.

Chanyeol’s instinct had always told him that there was a reason why he was still alive, why he didn’t end up bleeding to death right beside his father that night. Otherwise he wouldn’t be breathing right now. That gave him all the motivation he needed to pursue this, it gave him all the strength he needed to be able to throw anything away to get the answers he wanted.

“Just tell me why anyone would do something like that to him,” Chanyeol said.

The other stayed quiet. Chanyeol would have thought the call ended if it wasn’t for the faint sound of the other’s breathing.

“You don’t need to tell me who did it,” he added, hoping the other would come around.

_“Alright,”_ he said. _“But listen carefully cause I’m only gonna tell you this once.”_

Chanyeol held his breath in anticipation. Whether he was going to get the full story or a small piece of it, it didn’t matter. It was _something_ , and he could find a way to use it to his advantage later. He just needed to know that there was something he could hold onto for now.

_“Your father was heavily involved with the Busan mafia,”_ the other said. _“You can’t know nearly as much as he did and let your guard down like he did.”_

Another sigh. _“He died for it. And you will too if you don’t leave this all in the past where it belongs and detach yourself,”_ he said. _“Anyway, I’ve already said too much. Don’t contact me again.”_

Just like that, the call ended.

Chanyeol’s grip on his phone tightened and he had to fight back the urge to throw it straight to the ground with all the force he could muster.

After all this time… his only lead, his only source— probably one that knew exactly what had happened that night, refused to tell him anything.

No. This was unacceptable.

“That didn’t sound like it went well,”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened as he whipped his head to the side to find Junmyeon standing there, arms wrapped around his waist to hold his coat in place.

He was sure he was alone not so long ago.

“You were listening in on my private conversation,” Chanyeol said.

Junmyeon walked over and stood in front of him.

“Of course I was,” Junmyeon said.

“And now you’re going to rub it in my face,” Chanyeol scoffed. “Look, I’m really not in the mood.”

“I won’t say I told you so, but I will say for the thousandth time that maybe you should let this go,” Junmyeon said. “This is clearly bigger than you thought it was.”

Chanyeol should remember to lower the volume of the call next time. Even Baekhyun could have heard the entire exchange from down the street at this rate.

“You don’t get it,” Chanyeol said. “You can’t expect me to keep living my life while being kept in the dark. I _need_ to know, hyung.”

And he wouldn’t allow himself to. This had already gone on for too long and it was time to end it. He would take any thread handed to him to figure it all out, even if it was just his father’s occupation.

It was more than enough. This wasn’t something Chanyeol was going to give up on so easily. He threw away whatever chance he had at having a normal childhood after his father was murdered. He dedicated the rest of it to finding answers, and he made a vow to himself that he wouldn’t rest until he got them.

He didn’t care what Junmyeon or anyone else had to say about it.

“Chanyeol, I understand your sentiments, but you’re endangering yourself at this point,” Junmyeon said, crossing his arms. “I think you should return to Seoul and move on. I can tell you first hand that nothing good comes from being here.”

There it was again. He didn’t want to hear it.

He stood up, locking eyes with Junmyeon.

“If you understood at all you wouldn’t be saying things like that,” Chanyeol said.

He walked away without looking back.

Chanyeol appreciated Junmyeon’s concern as he had every reason and right to be, and he got where he was coming from.

Every time they had one of these arguments, even when Junmyeon didn’t intend to make him feel a certain way, Chanyeol felt guilty for treating him the way he did.

This time was different. The guilt was still there as he exited the park and got back to his current apartment, but there was also actual progress on the case he was putting his life at risk for; so he didn’t feel like he had to run back to apologise like he usually did.

Besides, Junmyeon knew from the start how determined Chanyeol was about finding out what happened that night, and he knew how much he was willing to throw away to get those answers.

Chanyeol owed so much to Junmyeon, but he wasn’t going to stop on his accord.

——————

_Chanyeol was running for his life this time._

_Yes, he often got in trouble for picking fights with thugs and delinquents. Yes, it was funny listening to their empty threats as they failed to catch up to him in a chase in which his long legs came to his advantage and took him to safety. And yes, he found great pleasure in messing with them and provoking them or playing mind games; but it was never fun when it got physical, which was rare._

_This was one of those times._

_Whenever this happened, he would contemplate why he still did it. At first, it was for fun, but soon it became a habit to cure his boredom. To make him feel more alive._

_Chanyeol knew exactly_ who _his target was earlier, and they definitely weren’t the usual wannabe Seoul thugs. No, the ones currently chasing him were members of an organised crime syndicate— a proper one. From Busan, no less._

_And it was during this crucial pursuit that his legs decide to fuck him over._

_He looked behind him to check on his chasers one too many times. Because the next thing he knew, he was on the ground with a scraped up knee and forming bruises all over his forearms in an attempt to protect his already scarred face from the fall. He had tripped going up a step._

_Chanyeol cursed his clumsiness for this. Whatever was going to happen now, he was prepared to charm his way out of it somehow._

_The pain in his body didn’t immediately register in his system, because alarms were busy going off on the fact that he had been caught and picked up by his pursuers and thrown at the back of a town car with shaded windows. This wasn’t to be mistaken for fear— he wasn’t scared. Maybe a little panicked to be thrown in an unpredictable situation where things may or may not go favourably, but he was_ definitely _not scared._

_To his confusion, the car didn’t start moving straight away, and he was faced with a man’s hand— Chanyeol’s eyes followed it up to the Rolex around his wrist, to his tailored, expensive looking black suit, then to his face. He had short, black hair side parted and styled with care, and a look far too soft in his eyes for someone in his line of work._

_Chanyeol knew exactly who this man was. He flashed him with a grin and straightened himself up on his seat, crossing his leg and making himself comfortable._

_“Is something the matter, Mr. Kim?” he had asked._

_Junmyeon looked him over, raising a brow. “You know who I am,” he said._

_Chanyeol nodded. “Nice finally meeting you, hyung. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said. “I’m Park Chanyeol. May I know why I’m here?”_

_“Show some respect,” Junmyeon said. “You’ve cost me a couple of million won just now for provoking my men at a_ restaurant _and you_ dare _play oblivious with me?”_

_The younger shrugged. “I didn’t force them to turn tables and break plates or waste food. That was their own doing.”_

_“If anything,_ you’re _the one who should be held accountable for your inability to control those blockheads of yours.”_

_Junmyeon blinked at him before bursting out in laughter, giving his thigh a couple of taps with his palm._

_“So the truth is funny to you,” Chanyeol said. He was amused because no one’s ever reacted this way to him._

_“No,” Junmyeon said as he quieted down. “But a 13 year old with a way of words trying to lecture me is.”_

_“I’m 15,” Chanyeol said._

_“You’re still a kid,” Junmyeon retorted._

_“Tell me, though,” he added, “since you’re so smart and seem to know things, how are you going to pay for all the trouble you’ve caused today?”_

_Chanyeol could have never imagined what would unfold from this encounter._

_Junmyeon ended up recruiting him as his personal assistant— he had no qualms hiring a complete stranger to keep by his side at all times. It was mostly coffee runs and fetching him things out of his reach— minimal, unimportant tasks._

_Until one time as he was waiting around in Junmyeon’s office in Seoul for the other to show, his curiosity got the best of him and he started going through a folder of clearly incomplete information about a man— he was a detective Junmyeon was looking into for some reason._

_At that time, Chanyeol already had built himself a dependable network, so he called and asked around. He filled up vital information that Junmyeon needed, and left the folder as it is._

_Junmyeon didn’t come around until the next day. It was a dick move and he had done it to Chanyeol a couple of times— not letting him know when he wouldn’t be needing him and Chanyeol wasting a whole day doing nothing. One thing that was certain was that he had never done it again after that._

_Chanyeol was called in and questioned by Junmyeon about what he did and how he did it, and when Chanyeol told him, he gave him a few other profiles to complete. He told him that he would have to fire his current informant and hire him in his stead, but Chanyeol refused. Junmyeon suggested he should make a job out of his network of information, that it could be his quick ticket out of his current living situation. That he would help him start off so that he could put himself out there and expand into bigger clients._

_He was only 16 at the time. And although he made good money out of what Junmyeon helped him build, he stayed in school and managed to graduate at the top of his class. He got into a good university in Seoul— one he paid for himself with the money he earned from his growing business._

_In his first year of university, he remembered Strike’s suggestion in making himself stand out a tad too seriously and dyed his hair red. He kept it that way for years to come._

_Around five years into his information brokering business, he was quite well known in both the industry and in the underground world, despite living in a city where gang activities were low. He focused mainly on the legal aspect of his business— such as selling information to government agencies or advertising and marketing companies for consumer purposes, as well as to powerful individuals who required his services._

_He only dealt with a few criminal organisations from time to time because they paid well, and because if anything would lead him to his father’s killers more easily, it would be them._

_——————_

Chanyeol knew where to look now and where to focus his search regarding his father’s death: the Busan mafia.

As soon as he got back to his apartment the night before, he put in some calls to look into the entire situation between them. He needed to know everything to do with each significant active _and_ inactive gangs, and all he had to do now was wait for his contacts to reach him about this matter.

While waiting, he spent his entire day completing and closing up Lee Kangmin’s and Hwang Sungil’s profiles to give to Baekhyun after concluding it was neither of the two who could have been responsible for Baekbeom’s death. There was a slim possibility that it was Jung Hosung, but it didn’t hurt to look into something else while waiting for confirmation as to not waste much time.

It was mostly a gut feeling— and the fact that he knew exactly who Chanyeol was, but something told him that Zhang Yixing was someone he should look into.

After meeting him, it clicked in his head that it was a name he had heard briefly before in a thing connected with the Kims while he was looking something up for Junmyeon a few years back. It may or may not be the same Zhang Yixing, but he was looking him up for the time being. Mainly his whereabouts that night, and maybe dig up that case from back then if he couldn’t find anything to add.

For now, he made his way up to Baekhyun’s office with the two complete folders of Kangmin and Sungil that he had just finished printing out and organising for him.

Once he had gotten up there and gone through the elevator to the hall, he could hear the television’s white noise, which was awfully domestic for a man like Baekhyun.

Chanyeol’s footsteps trudged as he entered the living room and found Baekhyun comfortable on the couch facing the television instead of his usual spot in his office; he was focused on the movie that was playing with his chin rested on his palm. The only detail that remained the same was the glass he had between his fingers. It was half full, although the decanter was missing; which told him that Baekhyun either just moved rooms prior to his arrival, or that he wasn’t drunk enough.

Baekhyun didn’t bat an eye at Chanyeol, even as he shamelessly sat himself on the couch to Baekhyun’s right, fiddling with the folders in his hands.

He hadn’t had a moment alone with Baekhyun like this since they kissed four nights ago.

Chanyeol couldn’t get it out of his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Baekhyun touched him, he couldn’t stop thinking about Baekhyun’s oddly soft lips against his and the feelings they brought about. He couldn’t stop thinking about _why_. Why Baekhyun did it, why _he_ let it happen, and most of all, why he _liked it—_ why he wanted nothing more than to do it again.

Daring to glance in Baekhyun’s direction— who hasn’t even acknowledged his presence as of yet— his eyes immediately locked on his lips as he brought his glass up between them to take a sip, noticing how his throat didn’t bob much as he swallowed the drink.

“You finally decided to bring them up?” Baekhyun asked, cutting his wild train of thoughts.

The informant almost shook his head too roughly as he directed his attention elsewhere— yes, the folders. Baekhyun was talking about the _folders_.

Chanyeol cleared his throat. “I _did_ just finish them, you know,” he said.

“Took you long enough to compile all the info in there,” Baekhyun said as he took another sip.

“Yeah, well…” Chanyeol started. “Something came up,” he said.

Baekhyun let out a short, mocking laugh. “Seems like that’s always the case with you,” he said.

Chanyeol shot him a glare. What was that supposed to mean? He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ignored that little remark. He put the folders on the coffee table in front of Baekhyun and he shrugged, turning his face towards the TV without paying attention to what was being said on it.

“You won’t accomplish much if you keep letting the simplest of things distract you. Both with these,” he leans forward to reach out to one of the folders, “and with whatever your personal agenda in Busan is,” Baekhyun said.

He wasn’t going to let this go, was he? Chanyeol sighed. “You included, right?”

“What?” Baekhyun asked.

“You’re one of the _simple distraction_.”

Baekhyun hummed as he started flipping through the folder— the thicker one of the two, Chanyeol noted— Kangmin’s. “It’s all a test of your competence to see whether you’re worthy or not.”

“And just how much longer are you going to keep that up?” Chanyeol asked. “You still don’t think I’m good enough for the job _you_ chose me for even after all the progress I’ve made in a week that you couldn’t achieve half of in double the time?” he scoffed.

At that, Baekhyun shut the folder and threw it back on the table. “I don’t doubt your abilities as an informant, Chanyeol. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Then what is it?” Chanyeol retorted.

“I don’t _trust you_ ,” Baekhyun said. “And frankly, I don’t see myself trusting you anytime within the near future either.”

“You _do_ know that cancels out you bringing me here entirely, right? Even if you _do_ think I’m good enough for this job,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun sighed. “For fuck’s sake, it’s not about you as an informant. Get that through your thick skull,” he said.

Chanyeol opened his mouth to speak, but shut it back up. Was it his connection to the Kims that left some doubt there? Was the situation between the two gangs deeper than it seemed? Was that why he had to include those clauses in their contract?

Or did Baekhyun just have trust issues from a past occurrence? Chanyeol couldn’t have known because that man was a completely closed off book and he couldn’t learn anything about him no matter how high or low he had searched.

Could it be the reason why he stopped their kiss midway and why he didn’t want to associate himself with Chanyeol on a personal level?

“You’re not even giving me a chance to ask why you did it, are you?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun kept his eyes glued to the movie’s end credits. “Why I did what?” he calmly asked.

“You know what I’m talking about, hyung,” Chanyeol said.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific,” Baekhyun said as he grabbed the remote control and turned off the TV.

“Our kiss.”

If Chanyeol blinked, he wouldn’t have noticed the way Baekhyun’s body stiffened for a millisecond before dropping the remote somewhere near him on the couch.

“Ah,” Baekhyun began, “that,” he said. “I just felt like it. You didn’t stop me or indicate you didn’t want it either, so I think I have a right to ask why _you_ did it too.” 

“Why don’t _you_ enlighten me since I’m the one who brought it up?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun rolled his eyes and turned to face the other direction. He didn’t give Chanyeol an answer.

“Fine,” Chanyeol gave in. “I’m not sure why I did.”

“Could it be that you enjoyed it?” Baekhyun asked.

“Did you?” Chanyeol wasn’t going to let him steer this conversation as he pleased. Not this time.

Again, Baekhyun gave no response. He didn’t give off anything from his body language or facial expressions either. Chanyeol _hated_ that he couldn’t read the other.

“Why did you avoid me after?” Chanyeol tried again.

He waited a few seconds, but the other continued disregarding him.

Baekhyun stood up. “Your little game of 20 questions is running a bit too long today, don’t you think?” he asked. “Go home, Chanyeol.”

The informant stood up as well and spoke before Baekhyun could retreat completely.

“So you’re just going to continue avoiding me,” he said.

Baekhyun stopped. “Don’t be delusional,” he said. “It’s late, I’m tired, and I think you’ve overstayed your welcome for the night.”

Chanyeol snorted. “You’re unbelievable,” he said.

He nearly stomped his way back to the elevator and called it up. Baekhyun made no effort to say anything and no move to come after him for a final round.

There were many words Chanyeol had thought of to describe Baekhyun over the time he spent with him. He was many things, even if he didn’t let on much of them. He was clearly avoiding Chanyeol’s confrontation back then.

Question was, why was this a topic he wanted to avoid? What about Chanyeol couldn’t he trust enough, exactly? He had already let his guard down around him plenty of times.

The tension Chanyeol felt between them must have gotten to Baekhyun _bad_. Worse than what it brought onto Chanyeol. If anything, it was Baekhyun that seemed distracted and distraught by the situation, not as he accused Chanyeol to be.

Chanyeol looked up to see that the elevator was almost there. For once, it was agonisingly slow. As soon as it got there and opened up, Chanyeol got in and pushed on the number for his floor multiple times, as if the doors would close back up and it would take him back down faster that way.

No, Chanyeol wouldn’t let this get to him. He was going to finish this damn job, and he was going to leave Busan with no personal attachments.

And then he won’t look back anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this chapter wasn't too plot heavy, i promise there'll be a bit less of that and more exciting things next chapter on sunday!!
> 
> until then 💕


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains rough sex
> 
> enjoy (￢‿￢)

Between waiting for his upcoming meeting with Jongdae to hopefully wrap up Baekhyun’s job, and waiting for his contact to get back to him about what he had asked of him, Chanyeol was stuck doing nothing.

With Baekhyun ignoring his existence and Kyungsoo busy as he moved up his schedules to fit in their upcoming meeting, Chanyeol had no one to kill time with. All he could do was wait.

And with nothing to distract him, only Baekhyun occupied his thoughts. Specifically their conversation from two nights prior.

Now that he had somewhat calmed down after their exchange, he got to thinking more clearly about the possibilities as to what Baekhyun meant when he said he didn’t trust him— because again, why would he hire someone he didn’t trust for such a high profile and time-sensitive case?

Chanyeol played around with the possibility of this being deeper than it was, but without anything to back that thought up or prove it, he didn’t dwell on it.

As if Baekhyun being indecisive and conflicted— at least from what Chanyeol could see— wasn’t enough, it was extremely difficult for Chanyeol to read him or even give a plausible guess as to what he was thinking.

It bothered Chanyeol a lot.

When they kissed, Chanyeol finally put a name to the pull he felt towards the other; attraction. He didn’t know if he actually felt anything beyond physical for Baekhyun yet, and in all honesty, if Baekhyun was going to keep being the way that he was and treating Chanyeol the same, he wasn’t going to think about it long enough to find out.

It wasn’t worth the emotional investment as it is. Although that didn’t mean that Chanyeol was going to give up on learning more about Baekhyun or directly getting to know him. Maybe the things he couldn’t possibly find through hacking databases, talking to people in shady chatrooms, or abandoned warehouses and buildings.

The pull— _attraction_ he felt was strong. Not strong enough for it to take over his thoughts all the time like Baekhyun assumed; but strong enough for him to want to explore it just a little further. It _could_ be mere curiosity, but Chanyeol wasn’t sure.

Whichever it was, Chanyeol wasn’t going to allow it to consume his time too much.

He sighed. He had just finished having lunch— if leftovers could be called that— and had since thrown his body on the couch and idly watched whatever show was on. He was _bored_ and there wasn’t much for him to do in Busan that wouldn’t put him in life threatening situations he couldn’t afford to be in at the moment.

The idea of going out and doing something trivial crossed his mind several times, but he eventually decided to stay in. Maybe a part of him was hoping Baekhyun would show up unannounced like he had that time. Maybe he would have invited him in and they could have had a pleasant conversation like they had that first night before Chanyeol provoked him.

Chanyeol closed his eyes and shook his head. Why did all his thoughts keep leading back to Baekhyun?

He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and sat up, turning off the TV. He looked at his reflection for a few seconds. He was a mess, to say the least. Face still swollen from the little sleep he managed to get, hair neglected and all over the place, still in the same outfit he threw on the night before bed— this was why he never allowed himself to sit and do nothing. It felt unproductive.

Maybe after a shower and a change of clothes, he could go out for a walk.

Just as he was about to stand up, he instead perked up at one of his phones as it started vibrating on the coffee table. He reached out for it to answer.

“Hey,” Chanyeol said. “What have you got for me this time?” he asked as he stood up and walked up to his desk.

He took a seat on his chair and booted up the computer as well as his laptop.

_“It’s missing some details, but I got you the gist of it,”_ his contact said. _“I’m about to email you the whole thing, so I’m gonna keep this short.”_

Chanyeol nodded. “Go ahead,” he said.

He typed in the passcode on his laptop and opened up his inbox in preparation.

_“About eleven years ago, Kim Yongnam appointed his son Minseok as his successor if anything were to happen to him. This was after one of his younger brothers died,”_ he said.

“The _unfortunate_ car explosion, right?” Chanyeol said.

_“Yeah,”_ the other confirmed. _“You know his youngest brother Kim Yongha?”_

Chanyeol was all too familiar with that name.

“Kim Junmyeon’s father,” he said.

_“That’s right. Word was, he didn’t exactly agree with his brother’s decision to leaving everything in Kim Minseok’s hands,”_ he was told. _“Around that time, he upped his security cause he believed he was next.”_

Chanyeol hummed. He would have as well, especially after having sat through an informal meeting with Minseok himself. The man was intimidating while he was playing a game of _poker_. Chanyeol could only wonder how he was like when he was actually angry or properly worked up over something.

He continued listening to the other.

_“Not long after, Yongha found out that Yongnam was forming some sort of alliance with the Songs to take down the Byuns. He tried to persuade him to step down, but Yongnam refused.”_

Although the Kims were generally more powerful and influential in Busan, the Byuns were larger in number and were the only arms dealers in the city. From what Chanyeol knew, the Byuns have been providing the Kims with their weapons for _years._

The Byuns could also just as easily have overran that entire alliance with their high stock of weaponry and large number of loyal, active members.

So how did Kim Yongnam agree to do something that would have inevitably led to his entire empire’s fall?

“Weren’t the Kims and the Byuns on good terms at the time?” Chanyeol asked.

_“They were,”_ the other told him. _“That’s why Yongha had no other choice but to go behind Yongnam’s back, straight to Chairman Byun Yeonseok. Guess they had mutual trust and common interests, cause they both had problems with the idea of Kim Minseok in charge.”_

A notification for a new email on his laptop’s screen brought his attention, and he opened it up and downloaded the PDF file immediately as he listened to the rest of it.

_“So Chairman Byun used his influence to tip the police off on Minseok and his gambling rooms after Yongha gave him the locations of the ones he frequented,”_ the other said. _“He also went through lengths to bribe the judge in charge to get him sentenced for a good eight years.”_

“Ah,” Chanyeol said as he nodded to himself. “They conspired to take both Minseok and Yongnam down and put Yongha in charge instead.”

_“Exactly. But before they could make a move on Yongnam, Park Sungjin caught wind of their little treaty and threatened to sell what he knew.”_

Chanyeol felt like he had stopped breathing when he heard his father’s name and involvement in this. So he was right to focus his search elsewhere after all.

Had he continued to directly search for information on his father, he wouldn’t have found any. But now that he knew a tiny bit of what he was involved in, a little digging there was all he needed to learn more.

The informant tried to calm his racing heart by taking a deep breath as quietly as he could, and letting it out.

_“From what my acquaintance told me, Park was quite loyal to Yongnam. I personally believe he would have told him without the charge he was asking of Chairman Byun and Kim Yongha.”_

“I think Kim Yongnam would have been in on it with Park,” Chanyeol said. “When was this?” he asked.

_“Me too. And I believe this was around a year into Kim Minseok’s sentence. The details are in the email I sent, no worries,”_ he said.

It clicked in Chanyeol’s head that if this coincided with the time of his father’s death, then he could have finally found the motive behind his father’s murder— his involvement in things he shouldn’t have involved himself in as a mere information broker. If this could somehow also lead to him finding out who was behind it, Chanyeol wouldn’t know how to act.

Chanyeol pulled up a banking tab to get ready to transfer the amount, and he noticed something.

“What happened after?” Chanyeol asked, his eyes fixed on his statement history as he scrolled through it.

_“Nothing,”_ the other said. _“Park died around that time, but I couldn’t find anything that linked Chairman Byun and Yongha to his murder. They were out of the country, actually. They only got back after his death. I heard they wanted to lay low for a while in case Park went through with telling Yongnam what they were up to.”_

So it wasn’t them, either. Chanyeol had been suspecting Yongnam for the longest time, but it couldn’t have been him— especially not with all this newfound information he learned of their close association with one another. 

_“They couldn’t find any dirt on Yongnam for the longest time, so I guess they gave up on their plans,”_ the other said.

_“Chairman Byun retired and stayed out of the mafia scene, and Kim Yongha went on about his business like it never happened. Although Yongnam did exile him to handle Kim Industrial’s affairs from their headquarters in China.”_

“I see,” Chanyeol said. “It’s still possible they had something to do with Park’s murder. They could have arranged it.”

He hung onto the hopes of this not turning up in another dead end. He’d be too devastated to continue if it did.

_“I dunno,”_ he was told. _“I’ll let you know if I learn more on this, though.”_

Chanyeol took a deep breath. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll wire you the money in a bit.”

The informant hung up and put his phone on the side, bringing his focus back to his account.

He hadn’t been paying attention to the amount he had been receiving monthly over the past year, so it was easy for him to miss the lack of it over the past couple of months. He got distracted at one point and had forgotten that he had been keeping hold of a package for Kim Yongnam for that long.

The entire exchange was strange, too.

It was _Junmyeon’s_ job to travel around South Korea and handle Kim Industrial’s businesses here and there, yet it wasn’t him that dropped by to ask Chanyeol for a service even though he had been in Seoul at the time.

Chanyeol was working in his apartment one day when Kim Yongnam showed up for a visit and gave Chanyeol a small box to keep _for_ him in his top desk drawer. Yongnam had taken the key, and Chanyeol had forgotten about it because he had no way of checking its content without breaking the lock other than taking his desk apart, and he was too drowned in work and university assignments to sacrifice that.

He was suddenly curious about whatever the box contained, though. Important documents or reports perhaps? Maybe it was something to do with his father. After what he learned about his father in the past couple of days, he wouldn’t be surprised. The question was, why did Yongnam stop the previously fixed transactions? Did he take the box back?

Yongnam probably knew he was _that_ Park Sungjin’s son. Hell, maybe even Junmyeon knew. Was this the reason he had been trying to persuade him _not_ to look into this?

Whatever it was, he _had_ to go back and crack that drawer open soon— just to see if it was still there. And if it was, maybe he could take that opportunity to check its content.

Even if it meant facing the consequences of breaking contract with both Kim Yongnam and Byun Baekhyun.

——————

It took Chanyeol a whole day to look through the overly detailed PDF file. It couldn’t have taken two days for his contact to complete. It was almost as if the man had most of it ready; as if he was piecing it together for a personal reason way before Chanyeol had asked.

That wasn’t an important detail, though.

Chanyeol had just finished preparing himself for the meeting with Kim Jongdae the following day. He went over everything he had already gathered on Jung Hosung, and he could tell this was going to be another impasse chasing yet another reason as to why the Byun Group should hire new people.

In his free time, he looked into Zhang Yixing.

His first record in South Korea was 14 years prior. Chanyeol couldn’t find any association to the name Zhang Yixing other than the school he had enrolled in at the time, as well as the university he attended after, where he got his degree in business management.

Soon after graduation, he started working at the Byun Group headquarters and quickly climbed his way up to his current position.

His family back in China had connections with the arms dealers that exclusively supplied the Byuns— and that definitely cleared up on how a freshly graduated Yixing landed himself such a high position shortly after he was hired.

Yixing’s involvement in that aspect of things added to Chanyeol’s doubts about him being as clean as his records stated and continued to built on to the idea of Yixing taking part in Byun Baekbeom’s murder. Be it in the orchestration of the crime or committing it himself— whichever it was, Chanyeol was certain he had something to do with it one way or another.

The informant decided to brush those thoughts off for the time being and focus on the task at hand. Right now, that was to get a proper night of sleep.

He got off his swivel chair and dimmed the living room’s lights, noting he left his desk’s lamp on.

Just as he was crossing the room to get it, he heard a knock on his door and stopped midway.

Chanyeol hoped for it _not_ to have been Baekhyun. He was tired and he wouldn’t have been able to handle whatever mood Baekhyun would greet him in.

With a sharp intake of breath, he opened the door to Baekhyun looking far too domestic once again; his fingers loosely keeping hold of an all too familiar glass that was half full. There was no telling whether this was a refill or whether it was freshly poured, at least not until he was close enough to smell the alcohol off of Baekhyun.

“It’s not like you to knock,” Chanyeol said, arms crossed against his chest while his foot held open the door as he leaned against it.

Baekhyun stared at him without a word for a few seconds before he slipped past him— inviting himself in. Chanyeol’s eyes followed him until he stood by the window.

The informant closed the door and went to sit on the sofa facing the window. There was no way he was sitting with his back against Baekhyun, who remained in his spot staring off at the dull city’s night view.

After taking a large gulp of the drink in his head, Baekhyun turned around to look right back at Chanyeol. “I’m not avoiding you,” he said.

Having no idea what brought this two day old conversation back on, Chanyeol leaned back on the sofa and raised a brow. “And you decided to bother me in the middle of the night just to tell me that.”

Baekhyun gently set his glass down on Chanyeol’s desk and walked around it to rest up against it. He brought his eyes back up to look at Chanyeol. “Yes,” he said, “with proof.”

The _proof_ being his presence, it seemed. It didn’t make Chanyeol any less confused as to why he was going through such lengths to make a point.

“Truly unbelievable,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun shrugged and picked his glass back up, silently downing the remains of his drink. He said nothing else.

The normalcy of this kind of atmosphere between them still felt strange. They weren’t supposed to be like this. Especially not with one another, and especially not in their situation.

It was supposed to be formal. It was supposed to be kept strictly business— but Chanyeol couldn’t help himself on that aspect. He thought that after playing around that first time and what he received in return would cement the idea of this being just work in his head.

He thought the warning Baekhyun gave him was his way of reminding Chanyeol of his place in Busan— of what he was there to do. He was there to do his job, and he was to leave with no _personal_ strings attached after.

But _this_ — this comfortable, _intimate_ silence that was able to settle between them whenever they were alone— it wasn’t something Chanyeol expected Baekhyun would allow _,_ let alone _bring_.

It made things more complicated than necessary for the informant.

Chanyeol’s train of thoughts stopped when Baekhyun placed his now empty glass back on the desk.

All of Baekhyun’s guards seemed to be down. Just like two nights ago when he got worked up and maybe even irritated at Chanyeol’s question.

Thinking about it now, perhaps it was because Baekhyun himself didn’t know the answer; perhaps him showing up on his own accord was because he found his answer; but perhaps Chanyeol was overthinking it.

Maybe he could bring it up again. It could backfire and chase Baekhyun away— which Chanyeol wasn’t sure he wanted at the moment—or it could clarify things and maybe _then_ Chanyeol could settle his feelings for the other.

“So?” Chanyeol asked, deciding to be casual about it.

“Hm?” Baekhyun looked at him.

“Are you going to tell me why you kissed me or not?” he asked.

“I already did,” Baekhyun said. “I told you I felt like doing it do I did. Why are you making such a big deal out of one kiss?”

“Maybe because it was from the very person who threatened to scoop my eyeballs out of their sockets,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun _laughed_. A concept Chanyeol thought to be foreign to the man. Yet it still sounded natural and endearing.

Chanyeol thought it was a good indication that Baekhyun was in the best mood he had seen yet. He could probably get a little more bold with his questions while he was at it to get to know more about Baekhyun.

“It was in the heat of the moment,” Baekhyun finally said, “I’d never actually do something like that.”

Yeah, maybe not to Chanyeol right now because he still needed him to finish the job, but definitely to someone else.

“I find that hard to believe, especially with what I’ve learned recently,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun leaned away from the desk and started walking towards the sitting area. “You’re still looking me up?” he asked.

He sat atop the coffee table directly across Chanyeol and he crossed his legs, elbow resting on his knee to prop his chin up on his palm. Baekhyun’s eyes were unmoving as they watched Chanyeol.

“What made you assume I stopped?” Chanyeol said. If he could have leaned back farther, he would have. Especially with the way Baekhyun was looking at him. He stood his ground, though, and looked Baekhyun right back in the eyes.

“Am I really not that threatening to you?” Baekhyun suddenly asked.

It looked like he was fooling him with his act because in reality, he was terrified. All he wanted then was to escape Baekhyun’s gaze. It was too much for him to handle, especially with the thoughts that had been haunting his head since the night Baekhyun kissed him.

“Only when you had a knife held up to my face. Otherwise…” Chanyeol trailed off, not sure if this was a sensitive subject to Baekhyun. Not that he cared anyway, but he needed to pretend like he did. “I don’t know if you’ve realised yet, but I literally tower over you with my build and height,” Chanyeol said. “I’m sure I could take you down easily,” he added. “At least I know I’ve got some advantage and can put up a fight if you got violent.”

Baekhyun laughed _again._ This time, seeing it up-close— seeing the way his lips parted enough to reveal his perfect, pearly white teeth; the way his mouth oddly shaped up into a rectangle; seeing the way both his nose and eyes scrunched up— Chanyeol was taken aback and all he could do was stare in bewilderment at all the ways Baekhyun appealed to him and the tastes he didn’t know he had.

“You’re as amusing as I thought,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t say anything. He was witnessing a whole other different side of Baekhyun that he never even thought of existing. It only left him more conflicted.

And before he knew it, he blurted out what he was thinking, cutting through Baekhyun’s slowly dying laughter. 

“So which is the real you?” he asked. “The one I’m talking to right now or the insane bastard who slowly dragged a knife across my nose?”

He should have thought carefully before speaking because it wiped the smile right off of Baekhyun’s face.

Baekhyun leaned his face closer to Chanyeol. “How badly do you want to find out?” he asked.

In this new proximity, Chanyeol was _mesmerised_ by the mere sight of the other. He almost couldn’t find his voice when he answered.

“Bad,” he said.

“Why is that?” Baekhyun asked.

Chanyeol wanted to avert his eyes away from Baekhyun’s. He _really_ did.

“You ask too many questions…” he said.

Even as Baekhyun briefly stood up, Chanyeol’s eyes remained on his until he was straddled and had to drop his head back to put some distance between Baekhyun’s face and his own.

“Answer me,” Baekhyun said.

He was too close— this was _too much_.

Baekhyun leaned away, out of Chanyeol’s immediate line of sight, and he started unbuttoning the top of Chanyeol’s shirt.

The warm breath licking against Chanyeol’s jaw made him shudder. He inhaled sharply as he tried to respond to Baekhyun.

“I…” Chanyeol started, but he couldn’t bring focus to his thoughts with the way Baekhyun’s body was moving against his.

Baekhyun let out a sigh slowly.

“Well?” He asked.

“You make me feel—” Chanyeol couldn’t find the words or the motivation to even say them.

He took a deep breath to try to relax in that confident grip Baekhyun now had on his collar as he trailed kisses along his jaw.

“Well?” Baekhyun briefly paused to ask, voice breathy. “What do I make you feel?”

Feel… What did Baekhyun make him feel again? All he knew was that at that moment, he made him feel alive and more aroused than he had ever felt before. And he wasn’t even doing anything yet.

Any other thoughts, including what he was originally going to say to answer Baekhyun’s question, were long gone. His sanity was slowly following.

“How about I make you show me how you feel instead?” Baekhyun asked.

The growl that rolled up from Baekhyun’s chest was low and gruff, and he parted his lips to suck on the flesh of Chanyeol’s neck.

Yes, this was definitely something Chanyeol had wanted for a while. This was probably what he had felt he was _craving_ whenever he thought of Baekhyun.

Or was this something he had been fearing? He wasn’t sure of the mixed signals his brain and body were sending, but it definitely wasn’t that he hated it or wanted it to stop. He wasn’t sure why he was scared of this finally happening because his body was displaying the contrary.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea—” Chanyeol tried to say but Baekhyun clicked his tongue, silencing Chanyeol.

The noise Baekhyun made as he leaned his upper body closer reminded Chanyeol of metal scraping against ceramic floor. Baekhyun definitely didn’t sound content at the response he was getting from Chanyeol.

It was hard for Chanyeol to remember why it wasn’t such a good idea with the way Baekhyun’s lips touched his; warm, soft, and radiating with desperation he didn’t know Baekhyun had until now.

Chanyeol tried to open his mouth to say something— he didn’t know what he wanted to say exactly, but Baekhyun chose that exact moment to slide his tongue between Chanyeol’s lips, and the last thing on his mind was trying to get Baekhyun to stop.

What happened to the guy that pushed him away two days ago? What happened between then and now that made Baekhyun go from not having it with the mere mention of their kiss to wanting to do… _this?_

It confused him. Everything about Baekhyun confused the hell out of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice out his inner conflict; not with the warm and surprisingly solid strength of Baekhyun’s body keeping him practically stuck to the cushion; and definitely not with the aggression of the way his lips moved against Chanyeol’s.

How did Baekhyun manage to make him feel so many things in such a short amount of time? He had walked in his apartment what— 15 minutes ago? And Chanyeol’s already gone a full circle with his emotions.

Getting somewhat of a grip on himself, Chanyeol brought his arms up to wrap them around Baekhyun’s head to keep him locked in a kiss he was no longer sure whether they should be having in the first place.

Baekhyun’s hands let go of Chanyeol’s collar and cupped the sides of Chanyeol’s head instead. With a muffled moan, Baekhyun tangled his fingers tighter in Chanyeol’s hair, nearly tugging at it as he continued kissing him.

What was it that Baekhyun was hoping to get out of this, exactly? Had he been wanting this as much as Chanyeol had? Or maybe even more seeing as _he_ was the one who initiated this?

As quickly as it all happened, Baekhyun stopped— just like he had in his office the week before. 

Maybe he didn’t want it like Chanyeol thought he did. Although the tension emitting from the interruption would have told Chanyeol that there might have been something else going on, had he not been overwhelmed by the intensity of their kiss and the way Baekhyun still straddled his lap.

Chanyeol unwrapped his arms, unsure what was going on as he searched Baekhyun’s eyes for some kind of hint. It was Baekhyun that pulled out of the kiss with a heavy breath, resting his forehead against Chanyeol’s. Baekhyun’s fingers remained on the sides of his head, although their grip on his hair loosened slightly— just enough to keep Chanyeol’s head in place and their eyes locked minus the aggression from moments ago.

While panting, Chanyeol watched and anticipated Baekhyun’s next move; praying to every God he had heard of that Baekhyun wouldn’t just go and leave him to deal with himself like last time.

Baekhyun’s words confused one of Chanyeol’s heads and made the other jump in excitement when he finally broke the silence.

“Let’s go,” he said as he got off of Chanyeol and stood in front of him.

Still trying to catch his breath and process the situation, Chanyeol raised a brow. “What?” he asked.

Baekhyun sighed, taking it upon himself to grab Chanyeol’s wrist, pulling him off the sofa and causing him to stumble from the surprising force of being yanked up.

“Where are we going?” Chanyeol asked, and although he had an idea of what was about to happen, he was doubtful thanks to Baekhyun’s excellent track record of doing the exact opposite of whatever Chanyeol thought was about to happen.

Baekhyun dragged him down the hall. “Where else?” he asked, gesturing towards Chanyeol’s bedroom up ahead.

As they were by the door, Baekhyun let go of Chanyeol and turned around to undo the remainder of Chanyeol’s buttons and slid the shirt down his arms. Then he tossed it aside on the ground and took a hold of Chanyeol’s wrist once more.

Once they were inside, Baekhyun pushed Chanyeol onto the bed, kicking his slippers off. Chanyeol held his upper body up using his elbows, to which Baekhyun flashed him with a wicked smile as he climbed onto the bed himself, hovering over Chanyeol. He then grabbed the hem of his own shirt and pulled it up slowly, discarding it to the side.

Chanyeol’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of his ribcage as he couldn’t believe this was happening. If he wasn’t experiencing this, he wouldn’t have believed that all the tension he felt whenever he was around Baekhyun was because he wanted him too.

Baekhyun leaned down and dug his fingertips into the dips of what was visible of Chanyeol’s hipbones, bringing Chanyeol’s body closer for just a second. He hummed.

“What to do with you first?” he wondered.

Letting out a soft, shuddering breath, Baekhyun pressed his lips to Chanyeol’s exposed stomach for a heated trail of kisses upwards.

Chanyeol’s mind nearly went blank as Baekhyun began sliding down his shorts along with his underwear until they were ridden of altogether. He spread Chanyeol’s legs, muttering something about how this was much better, and he kneeled down between them.

In anticipation of what Baekhyun was going to do, Chanyeol swallowed thickly and watched him through half lidded eyes in the deafening silence of the apartment. He flinched a little when Baekhyun’s cold hands slid up along the insides of his thighs; the touch sending sparks of electricity through Chanyeol’s body.

Baekhyun smirked at that, eyes glistening with something Chanyeol couldn’t put his finger on until the other licked his upper lip and lowered his head. Baekhyun darted his tongue out to lick across the head of Chanyeol’s hardening cock.

Chanyeol felt a rush of blood to that point of his body as Baekhyun did it again with a light suck at the tip this time.

He was intent on driving Chanyeol to insanity tonight, wasn’t he?

Baekhyun held himself up with one arm and used the other hand to stroke himself through his pants.

“Shit…” Chanyeol muttered through heavy huffs of breath.

His head fell back against the pillows behind him, hands grasping whatever part of his sheets he could to keep himself grounded. He felt Baekhyun smile around the warmth of his cock— Chanyeol wasn’t sure why he did— as his lips slid lower. Baekhyun tightened his lips, and his tongue began moving expertly around him.

Chanyeol stopped thinking entirely.

Then Baekhyun slowly pulled back up, giving the tip one last lick before sitting up. Chanyeol was about to protest, until Baekhyun’s mouth was replaced with one of his hands as he started stroking him.

“Holy fucking shit. How are you—” Chanyeol moaned. He couldn’t take it anymore and started squirming in Baekhyun’s hold. “Hyung—”

Baekhyun clicked his tongue a few times as he let go. “Not so soon,” he said.

Chanyeol watched Baekhyun take out a tube from his pants pocket and dropped it next to him. So Baekhyun _had_ come with full intention to do this. He then finally took his own pants off a bit too impatiently.

Baekhyun generously poured out some of the lube onto his hands and he worked it up Chanyeol’s cock.

Once he was done, Chanyeol watched him inch higher up on the bed, sliding a slick finger in and out of the crease of his own ass a few times; noting a clear leak already forming a droplet at the tip of his dick as he let out a moan.

“I want you to sit up,” Baekhyun told him.

Chanyeol’s throbbing erection was already painful enough that he couldn’t even do _that_ easily. He somehow managed to, though.

He didn’t know what took over him to comply with Baekhyun’s commands so easily, but he didn’t care at that moment. All Chanyeol knew was that he wanted him as soon as he could have him.

“Good,” Baekhyun praised. “I want you to be able to see what I’ve been thinking of doing to you for the past few weeks…” he said.

Baekhyun moved forward to climb up on top of Chanyeol, rubbing his hole along the tip of Chanyeol’s cock. Chanyeol leaned his head back against the headboard and shut his eyes.

Then his dick was suddenly grabbed roughly, evoking a groan out of his throat.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun warned.

He opened his eyes slightly to look at Baekhyun.

“I told you to watch,” he said.

Chanyeol gave a nod as he swallowed back hard, feeling his dick twitch between Baekhyun’s fingers.

Baekhyun let out a light laugh, then he moaned his name as he opened up around Chanyeol— who slowly felt that tight heat engulf the tip of his cock as Baekhyun guided it in.

“B—Baekhyun…”

Chanyeol gaped at Baekhyun as he took shuddering breaths while lowering himself gradually, moaning at the sensation it was giving him.

“Does it feel good, Chanyeol~?” Baekhyun asked. He let out a few more moans as he shifted his hips until he took Chanyeol in fully, finally opening his eyes back up halfway and meeting Chanyeol’s. “You feel amazing…” he said.

Baekhyun didn’t look like he was in pain, so he wasn’t lying. His erection was still fully there; the droplet at the tip trickled down to Chanyeol’s stomach now.

Without a warning, Baekhyun began the motion of lifting his hips up slightly, then sliding back down as hard as he could. He swiftly increased his speed and force— Chanyeol was sure he would come out of this with bruises but he couldn’t care less. It was too good. Baekhyun was too _good._

Chanyeol’s hands found their place on Baekhyun’s hips, helping the other with his movement. Baekhyun’s moans turned into near screams as he held onto one of Chanyeol’s hands, nails digging into his skin, while the other stroked his own cock. Chanyeol gasped for air as Baekhyun kept up the speed of his motions, feeling himself going crazy at the sensations he was having.

It was all too good to be true.

He didn’t know where he got the sudden strength to flip them over when Baekhyun’s pace slowed down. He was the one hovering over Baekhyun now, somehow managing to do that without ever pulling out.

Chanyeol bent down and started sucking and biting on the flesh of Baekhyun’s shoulder blade, just as Baekhyun had done to him earlier. He could hear Baekhyun moaning his name over and over past the ringing in his ears.

“Fuck, hyung!” Chanyeol groaned.

His fingers dug into Baekhyun’s hips as he slid in and out again, while Baekhyun held onto Chanyeol’s wrist to keep himself together, the other hand pulling Chanyeol’s hair roughly as his fingers tangled within.

Everything was hot and mind-numbingly messy. Chanyeol’s had his fair share of sex, but it was never this _raw._ It never made him feel good to the point that while his vision was blurry, he was still able to put in full force. And while his hair was being pulled and his skin was being bruised and scarred all over, the pain was outweighed with an intensified pleasure he had never felt before.

It was too much.

He pulled one of Baekhyun’s legs up above his shoulder and continued what Baekhyun started. And in this new angle, Baekhyun’s ass flexed, giving Chanyeol’s cock a firm squeeze that almost made him give out completely. It was so good he powered though, though, even as Baekhyun continued clenching tightly around him for the sake of receiving the same type of reaction from Chanyeol again and again.

Chanyeol could feel it building up at the pit of his stomach, inching closer and closer to the edge.

He pulled away from Baekhyun’s neck as his hips’ pace picked back up again. Baekhyun moved the hand that was tangled in Chanyeol’s hair to stoke himself again.

“Baekhyun, shit! I’m gonna—”

“Chanyeol—” Baekhyun moaned. “Holy fucking shit…”

Baekhyun clenched tight around him once more as he bucked against him, releasing on his own stomach. Chanyeol’s world turned into a distant haze as he stopped thrusting and came inside a moment after.

Every muscle in his body felt insanely sensitive. The wariness of Baekhyun’s insides as they kept on squeezing his cock took a toll on him. His mind was twirling with complete _bliss._

He pulled out after a while, and he rolled over to Baekhyun’s side, panting heavily as he stared up at the ceiling.

“So we just—”

“We did,” Baekhyun interrupted him.

His awareness of his surroundings slowly kicked in, and all he could hear was their gasps for air as they both came down from their high.

Beyond all the sweat and the sticky state they were in, Chanyeol was _contented_ , to say the least.

He turned his head to the side and watched as Baekhyun’s chest rose and fell continuously as he tried to regulate his own breathing. Chanyeol’s eyes traced up to Baekhyun’s profile.

Why did he get the sudden urge to pull the other’s body closer to his, not giving any mind to the fact that his was also damp and covered in cum, to curl up against it? As if they had any type of relationship besides their frequent banters to begin with?

Baekhyun was attractive in every way possible, yes. And Chanyeol was attracted to every one of those aspects— of course. Although there seemed to be something else. Something Chanyeol was slowly realising he felt… something stronger than the attraction he felt. Something his subconscious knew well and realised long ago that he didn’t.

It was much more than a sexual attraction, but not quite at an emotional level yet.

He was glad Baekhyun took the initiative to bring it a step further because he was sure the tension must have been killing Baekhyun as well for him to come all the way down to his apartment in the middle of the night just for this. Because he was sure— at least he was _now,_ that Baekhyun didn’t just come down here for a chat.

That didn’t matter. It turned out fine— this was the best possible scenario this night could have ended in.

With a newfound courage, Chanyeol brought his hand up and brushed a strand of hair away from Baekhyun’s face; at which Baekhyun raised a brow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Baekhyun asked.

Chanyeol gave him a cheeky smile. “I’m gonna go wash up!” he said as he sat up and stretched his arms up.

“The hell are you telling me for?” Baekhyun mumbled.

Then he smiled.

“Guess I could use a shower myself.”

——————

When Chanyeol came to and blinked the sleep away from his eyes, the first thing that came into view was Baekhyun resting up on the bed board next to him with his phone in hand.

He stirred a little and buried his face back into his pillow, letting out a soft groan.

“Finally awake?” Baekhyun asked.

With nothing to say as a response, Chanyeol flips onto the other side of the bed and closes his eyes again, hoping he would get a little more sleep before his meeting later in the afternoon.

Could he even afford to? What time was it anyway? He couldn’t see his phone anywhere near him and he felt it was far too soon for him to speak at the moment.

“You have three missed calls from Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun said as he tossed his phone to his side.

It didn’t sit well with him that Baekhyun tried to look at his phone— he knew he did because he left both his phones in the living room the night before. While Chanyeol didn’t know whether Baekhyun was a heavy enough sleeper to hear his ringtone, he still made an effort to go all the way just to grab it. Either way, Chanyeol had a proper passcode, unlike the hundreds of thickheads he had encountered while trying to do his job. So he had nothing to worry about.

“What did he want?” Chanyeol asked as he reached behind him and fumbled about for his phone until he got a hold of it.

“I don’t know,” Baekhyun said. “I’m not your secretary, Chanyeol.”

Why he even bothered asking Baekhyun that, he didn’t know. But given that it was finally the day for his and Kyungsoo’s meeting with Kim Jongdae, Chanyeol figured it was more than likely going to be in regards to that.

He unlocked his phone and looked at the top corner of his screen. It was a bit past 9am, so he still had plenty of time until he needed to get ready.

If Kyungsoo had to call him more than once though, it must have been urgent. He had to call him back.

Just as Chanyeol was about to tap to call him back, Baekhyun grabbed his phone and pulled it away from his face, tossing it to the other side of the bed. He turned Chanyeol to lay on his back once more and wasted no time to lean in for a kiss no where near gentle nor rough.

He pulled back just enough for him to talk. “Last night was…” Baekhyun said before giving him another quick kiss. “Memorable,” he added. “You’re not half as bad as I thought you’d be.”

Chanyeol— nearly breathless from the mere memory of how those lips almost drove him insane hours prior— looked right into Baekhyun’s droopy eyes. “How reassuring.” he simply said.

Baekhyun let out a light laugh that left Chanyeol dumbfounded at the proximity between them and seeing Baekhyun’s rare bright features up close so soon after last time.

When Baekhyun noticed Chanyeol’s wide eyes on him lingering a second too long, he stopped laughing and his smile gradually faded until his lips were a thin line.

Then all Chanyeol could see was a hand closing up on his face. Chanyeol went crosseyed looking at the hand, anxiously anticipating where it wanted to go. With as much fascination and curiosity as last time, Baekhyun’s hand reached down and touched his scar. And when Chanyeol didn’t react, Baekhyun started tracing along the length of it.

And that was all it took for Chanyeol to freeze altogether.

_A hand._

He remembered the hand that had grabbed him that night. The hand that slowly inched towards his face. A hand that… resembled Baekhyun’s for some reason.

There was pain, and then there was blood. Then everything stopped.

Why now? Why was he recalling what happened _now?_

Chanyeol tensed visibly when Baekhyun gently traced his middle and ring fingers along the freshly scarred skin. What was with Baekhyun’s interest with his scar, anyway?

Baekhyun’s lips moved, but Chanyeol couldn’t hear him beyond the ringing in his ears. When did _that_ start? Where was it coming from?

Ten whole _years_ had passed, he was certain Baekhyun touching him like that shouldn’t have been as triggering as it was.

It didn’t look like Baekhyun noticed— and even if he did, he was doing a hell of a job pretending not to have noticed Chanyeol’s change in attitude.

Baekhyun backed out of view until Chanyeol felt his weight lift off the bed completely. When Chanyeol turned to look, Baekhyun was already fully clothed in last night’s attire as he left the room.

Chanyeol continued lying there, feeling his chest progressively get tighter.

When he came about after that night’s vague occurrence, the first thing he registered was the throbbing in his head. Then came the pain from the wound on the bridge of his nose— although at the time, he thought it came from his forehead.

He remembered bringing his hand up to trace along his forehead, feeling the area for the pain he felt; until he moved his fingers down to the bridge of his nose from which felt a sting. He remembered quickly pulling his hand away only to find the tips of his shaky fingers covered in blood. And it was that moment that his adrenaline decided to kick in through the daze he had been in.

Chanyeol remembered wondering what happened— no, _how_ it happened? It only took a few seconds to pass for him to realise that it wasn’t all a dream; that it might have been real. That his father really was...

He remembered how he got up and stumbled his way out of his room like it was just yesterday. He remembered how _horrifying_ it was to find his father’s cold corpse lying there after having been brutally stabbed multiple times and left to bleed out. He remembered the sounds he heard, and he remembered how _that_ happened. It was just the part of how he received the wound on the bridge of his nose that he could never recall.

The little flash of a hand was a first. It immediately brought back memories his mind repressed for the sake of his sanity— which made it a bit difficult for him to hide his reaction from Baekhyun.

His ringtone stopped his mind from spiralling out of control. With a shaky sigh, he felt around his bedsheets until he found it.

It was Kyungsoo calling again. Chanyeol regulated his breathing and himself as much as he could before answering.

_“Finally,”_ Kyungsoo said.

“Good morning to you too,” Chanyeol said dryly.

Kyungsoo clicked his tongue. Seemed like he wasn’t having any of it this morning either.

_“Listen, Kim Jongdae contacted me earlier to tell me that he would be moving up the meeting due to some security problem,”_ Kyungsoo said. _“It’s at 11.”_

Chanyeol quickly sat up.

“And you just let me sleep in like that?” he asked.

Kyungsoo sighed. _“I’m not your secretary,”_ he said.

Chanyeol snorted. “Funny,” he said, “Baekhyun hyung said the same thing earlier.”

_“Earlier today?”_ Kyungsoo asked. _“I thought you just woke up.”_

It was far too early to fuck up this bad.

“Ah—” Chanyeol started. “No, earlier this _week_.” He corrected, hoping Kyungsoo would buy it. “Wait, why did he contact _you?_ I’m the one who set up the meeting.”

_“Oh. He’s a close acquaintance,”_ Kyungsoo said. _“Hurry it up, would you? We’re leaving in an hour,”_ and he hung up before Chanyeol could get another word in.

Chanyeol plugged his phone in to charge on his bedside table and took a deep breath. He then got out of bed and started getting ready for the morning.

Of course, he had to make a detour to peek at the living room.

Not a trace was left of Baekhyun having been there at all.

——————

The drive to Haeundae-gu took a while, but they managed to get there safely and in a timely manner.

Chanyeol still didn’t know what he should be expecting to get out of this meeting other than the obvious— that being the type of information someone in Kim Jongdae’s position was responsible for keeping. As in, Jung Hosung’s narcotic deals with the Kims specifically, from the time Byun Baekbeom decided to cease all trades of that form, onwards.

The new meeting place was a building just at the outskirts of the district; and it appeared to be the headquarters for the faction Jongdae was in charge of. As Kyungsoo pulled the car over at the parking lot, it seemed to have been occupied by them only for the day, what with there being only three other cars. Either that or they were extremely understaffed.

It was just Kyungsoo and himself. They made their way inside, passing two bodyguards just by the door. A third one on the inside showed them their way to the room they were supposed to be meeting the Kim at.

Kim Jongdae was a rather harmless looking man. Small— about the same height and body build as Kyungsoo, only with a tad more frail feel to him. If anything, he looked more— dare Chanyeol say, innocent and kind than he had expected him to be, as a childlike smile laced his lips while he introduced himself to Chanyeol and greeted Kyungsoo like an old friend.

There was a glint in his eye that Chanyeol couldn’t have miss if he wanted to when Jongdae’s eyes first landed on him. But maybe it was just a spark of interest upon seeing him for the first time. After all, this wasn’t new; as many people would gape in awe at Chanyeol’s lanky height and ostentatious hair that didn’t stand out any less with his build.

After mandatory greetings were done, Jongdae gestured for them to join him on the meeting table he had set up for them. A round table in a rather small room devoid of windows and only accessible through a single door. It didn’t feel stuffy, as the choice of wall paint colour and decor provided the illusion of a commodious feel to the room.

“I hope you didn’t mind me moving up the scheduled time,” Jongdae said as he took his seat.

Kyungsoo sat closer to Jongdae and the laptop he had already set up prior to their arrival, and Chanyeol took the other seat.

“It _was_ short notice, but this is an important matter,” Kyungsoo responded.

Chanyeol quietly watched the exchange, Kyungsoo’s words of advice from the car of not speaking unless spoken to echoing in his head.

“I see,” Jongdae said. “Well I hope I can be of use~”

As Jongdae was focused on pulling up some files from his screen, Chanyeol took the liberty of watching him closely as he moved and spoke.

“I would’ve done this over the phone, but you never know who might be listening,” Jongdae said as he briefly looked up at Chanyeol, allowing their eyes to meet for just a millisecond before bringing his focus back on his screen.

Chanyeol raised his brow. Was that a warning glance to let Chanyeol know that he could feel his eyes on him?

“Understandable,” Kyungsoo said. “We prefer it this way as well. This _is_ classified information after all.”

Jongdae nodded.

Skipping the pleasantries and ignoring whatever protocol of 10 minutes of small talk before getting down to business, Jongdae jumped straight ahead to the reason they were sitting on that very table.

“So about Jung Hosung,” he started, looking up at Kyungsoo as he spoke, “I only dealt with him directly because he was such a high profile in your company.”

And as if Kyungsoo never said anything to him just half an hour ago about letting him do all the talking during the meeting, Chanyeol’s instincts and job nature had him spitting out the question faster than he thought of it.

“When did he first come to you?”

Jongdae’s eyes switched to looking at him. “It was about two years ago,” he said. “I remember him distinctly because he came to me _desperate—_ I think it was withdrawal,” he tapped his chin with a finger and looked up in _thought_. “He kept going on about how dense Byun Baekbeom was for doing what he did and how badly it was affecting both businesses. He even elaborated on that part.”

Kyungsoo sighed. If he minded Chanyeol ignoring what he told him earlier, he didn’t show it. “Of course he did,” he said. “I swear there’s little to no loyalty left in that building with everything happening…”

Chanyeol chuckled at what he had found out and seen first hand. “I think it’s time you considered rehiring, hyung.”

At which Jongdae laughed as he looked down and typed something on his keyboard.

“Although we benefitted a lot, I’d seriously give that some thought,” he said. “You should’ve seen the way he was ready to throw everything in exchange for something only _I_ could provide him with.”

With a couple of final clicks, he looked back up at Kyungsoo. “Instead of money, he offered me valuable insider information and I must say, he never withheld anything,” Jongdae said. “I’ve always given him back the information’s worth in weight. The more effectively we could use it here, the more I gave him.”

Kyungsoo hummed as he crossed his arms and leaned back on his chair. “It can’t be helped _now_ , can it?” he let out a soft sigh. “Out of curiosity, did he ever let onto how he felt about Baekbeom being in charge in any way?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Oh he _despised_ Baekbeom,” Jongdae said. “He repeatedly emphasised on how much he loathed the day old Chairman Byun decided to retire. Always said how Baekbeom would be the downfall of the Byun group.”

But it ended up being the downfall of _him_ instead. Rather ironic if you asked Chanyeol.

“I see,” Kyungsoo said. “And has he ever insinuated that he would do something about Byun Baekbeom’s leadership?”

Chanyeol didn’t think Kyungsoo would be so straightforward with his intentions. And naturally Jongdae caught on and didn’t let it slide.

It was something Chanyeol did a lot as well; once presented with information so freely, he would push to get the most out of it until he was shut down by the other end.

“Whoa, hold up,” Jongdae said, bringing both his hands up. “You’re not suggesting he had anything to do with Baekbeom’s death?” he asked. “Look, if I learned anything about Hosung through our various meetings, it’s that he’s cowardly. More so than anyone I’ve ever met.”

It sure didn’t sound like he was defending the man, more that he was mocking Kyungsoo for ever suspecting him in the first place.

Jongdae chuckled. “The solutions to all his problems came in the form of something he could get from me. I personally don’t think he has the ambition or drive to do something about whatever bothered him. And even if he thought of it, he would never act upon on.”

Then he looked at Chanyeol. “If you’d met him, you’d have the same opinion, Mr. Informant,” he said with a smug smile.

Chanyeol concealed the surprise he felt at the way Jongdae knew who he was and possibly what he arranged the entire meeting for. 

Kyungsoo kept his composure as well, as if he expected this. “We’re not in a position to rule out any possibilities now, are we?” he said. “This is all part of a standard procedure we’ve began after his death. We’re not doubting Hosung specifically, this is more of a purge for every rotten seed in the company.”

“Ho~” Jongdae smirked. “Good that you guys stepped up. Here I was thinking you and Baekhyun were gonna keep buying everyone’s loyalties.”

Little did he know, Baekhyun still firmly believed in that policy, and it was going quite well for him. It was his brother that didn’t and that was possibly the reason why he was killed. Money _was_ power, after all.

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything else in regards to that, and shifted the conversation. Chanyeol tuned out the rest of it after noting how friendly they seemed with one another, despite Jongdae’s attempts to get under Kyungsoo’s skin.

Now since Jung Hosung was mentally and emotionally incapable of pulling off or arranging an assassination, Chanyeol only needed to check whether he _physically_ could have through his location the night of the incident.

He already found out recently that he didn’t have any loyal underlings he could have trusted with the job, and he had the transaction histories for all his bank accounts— be it under his real name or an alias. He couldn’t have possibly paid someone to do it either.

That left Chanyeol with the alibi. And Kyungsoo was working on getting it for him one way or another.

After a while, Jongdae and Kyungsoo’s conversation died down, and Kyungsoo’s chair scraped against the ceramic floor.

“We need to get going now,” Kyungsoo said as he stood up. “Thank you for your time, Kim Jongdae.”

Jongdae stood up and smiled. “My pleasure,” he said. “It was nice finally meeting you, Mr. Informant!”

Chanyeol nodded. “Likewise,” he said.

Then they took it upon themselves to walk out of the room, hearing the door shut close behind them.

With Kyungsoo walking ahead down the hallway, Chanyeol staggered behind— more because he was physically exhausted after his late night activities.

“So? Kyungsoo said, not looking back. “What do you think?” he asked.

“It _could_ be him,” Chanyeol said. “A very small possibility, though, depending on his whereabouts that night. I’m just waiting for your confirmation before I finalise my report for Baekhyun hyung.”

“He could have had someone do it for him,” Kyungsoo said.

Chanyeol shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “You do know his addiction cost him all his connections and relationships, don’t you? Even his wife left him and got full custody of their daughter last year,” he added. “How on earth are you keeping this guy as a _director?”_

“Believe it or not, Jung Hosung’s good at his job,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m going to have to discuss this with Baekhyun soon though. Is there a possibility he could have hired someone to do it?” he asked.

Chanyeol told him what he knew. “Not with his bank statements, he couldn’t have,” he said. “And I haven’t seen any large withdrawals or transfers either.”

Kyungsoo stopped and turned around. “How’d _you_ get access to those?” he said with a raised brow.

“If I told you the secrets of my trade, you wouldn’t be needing me here,” Chanyeol said, shrugging.

Kyungsoo let out a laugh.

“It’s looking more and more like we’ve completely miscalculated when we narrowed down the list of suspects,” he said.

Chanyeol hummed. “At least it shed light on some problems you probably wouldn’t have found out about otherwise,” he said. “I did find another lead through this, though, so this wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

“Already?” Kyungsoo asked. “Do I know them?”

“You do. It’s—”

They both whipped their heads upfront at the ruckus and loud, rushed footsteps. Kyungsoo’s posture immediately went on the defensive, and Chanyeol stood still as he watched one of Jongdae’s bodyguards come running down the hall with his gun equipped, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Get back inside, he’s—”

As quick as the words came out of his mouth, his entire body met with the ground with a loud thud at a bullet through his skull from a silenced gun. And immediately after, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo came face to face with a figure clad in black, a hood on his head concealing his face.

Chanyeol’s usually fast reflexes were dulled down all of a sudden. If it wasn’t for Kyungsoo acting fast on his feet and tackling him, he would have ended up like the guy right in front of him on the ground.

He was disoriented for a good few seconds as Kyungsoo whipped out his own gun and shot back expertly, but the other ran off.

And only then did Chanyeol register the bullet that had lodged itself in his upper arm. He could see that he was practically bleeding out through his blurred sight.

Kyungsoo rushed back to check on him, his eyes wide in panic as Chanyeol’s vision began tunnelling, until it completely enveloped his world in black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna leave it at that 👀


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter also contains rough sex and is long as hell
> 
> please enjoy!!

Chanyeol emerged from his sleep and slowly started gaining awareness of his surroundings.

It was dark wherever he was, but the moonlight illuminated the place enough for him to make out the familiar interior of the room he had spent nights at a time in before.

The dull ache in his arm registered, and at once he recalled what had happened that got him in this predicament in the first place.

Of course, it was mostly a blur as he remembered blacking out and regaining consciousness over and over. He wasn’t sure now whether it was from the pain or the blood loss— however much that had been. Hell, maybe it was from the shock of something like that happening to him for the first time.

Chanyeol remembered Kyungsoo hovering over him, eyes wide in panic. He remembered Kim Jongdae rushing out of the conference room they were in and from what Chanyeol could make out of the bits and pieces, he was on the phone.

The next thing he remembered was the man who treated him— Dr. Yoo something. He didn’t think much of it at that moment, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this man and his name from Junmyeon. He must have been that doctor that took care of the Kims in these types of situations.

He also vaguely remembered the road to Junmyeon’s place in Kyungsoo’s car. Why did he take him here, though? Why not back to Nam-gu?

It all happened while he was in a daze. He didn’t know how long it took, but they made it safely, and he remembered hearing Junmyeon’s voice as he was practically dragged into the house. But that was as far as his memory went.

Chanyeol couldn’t guess how long it had been since then, but he was lying on the bed he usually slept in whenever he visited Junmyeon, and it was nighttime.

And to confirm his suspicions, there was the owner right then— standing by the door, caught in the act of checking how Chanyeol was doing. 

It didn’t seem like Junmyeon realised Chanyeol was awake, so when Chanyeol stirred a little— and regretted it immediately — Junmyeon hastened his steps and stood by the side of the bed. His eyes softened up in relief when they met Chanyeol’s.

“You’re finally up?” Junmyeon asked.

Chanyeol grunted. More at the pain that slowly made itself known to him— probably because of the effects of whatever drugs and painkillers he was under wearing off.

Junmyeon chuckled, “I know, it’s a terrible feeling,” he said, “it’s your first time, after all. Don’t worry though, you’re in good hands under the care of Dr. Yoo.”

“Thanks,” Chanyeol said, his voice coming out a bit hoarse.

He cleared his throat. He didn’t know what else to say. He was more anticipating Junmyeon’s _I told you so,_ especially after what happened the last time they saw each other.

Junmyeon warned him of this, but Chanyeol didn’t listen. He wasn’t sure for now whether it was one of the men he was looking up for Baekhyun, or if it was what his father’s old contact warned him of. He just knew that one or the other was the reason he was shot in the first place.

Still, it shouldn’t have happened. He was promised that it wouldn’t happen— that he would be kept out of harm’s way throughout his stay in Busan. He didn’t expect to be put in harm’s way when he set up his meeting with Jongdae, so it caught him by surprise and had him completely shaken up.

Junmyeon took his silence as an urge for him to continue speaking.

“The bullet didn’t go deep enough to damage your bone. Dr. Yoo did leave the wound open to allow your tissue to heal, so he’ll be here to clean it up and change your bandages every now and then,” Junmyeon said.

It could have been worse. Chanyeol could have been shot anywhere on his torso and he probably would have died in the scene, but he didn’t. He was still alive. He was fine. He could shake off this entire thing and move on, finish his job for Baekhyun, then continue working on finding more clues as to what his father was involved with. It was fine. The Byuns would keep him safe throughout, as long as they still needed him.

Kyungsoo _did_ push him out of the way in time. He _did_ abide by his end of the bargain in keeping him as safe as he could.

It still didn’t sit well with Chanyeol that it happened at all, but he would move past this. He wouldn’t let it get in the way of what he was supposed to do in Busan. It was a clear scare tactic and he wasn’t going to let it get to him that easily.

Junmyeon cleared his throat. “Jongdae’s doing the most to find out who it was,” he said. “In the meantime, you should eat something and focus on recovering, alright?”

The last thing Chanyeol wanted right now was this kind of treatment— to be treated like a burden, like someone who was incapable of taking care of or protecting himself. Like someone vulnerable and prone to disaster. 

Although he _was_ angry at himself for not moving on time. He didn’t understand— he had the reflexes. Why couldn’t he have moved out of the way or at least crouched? Why didn’t he do _something?_

Chanyeol lifted himself up using his healthy arm and he tried to make himself comfortable sitting up against the back of the bed. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

Junmyeon sighed as he moved closer to help Chanyeol up properly. “I told you to be careful,” he said.

Chanyeol pulled his arm away. “I said I’ll be fine, hyung.”

The other backed away and stood there quietly, and Chanyeol continued to sit himself up properly using his good arm.

Chanyeol still wasn’t over what happened the last time he saw Junmyeon. He still couldn’t grasp why the other wanted him to leave the city that badly, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he brought it up again in the current situation.

The effort he put into ignoring Junmyeon’s messages and calls over the past— what was it? Two weeks, more or less? He was surprised he had been brought here in the first place.

“Why did you bring me here?" Chanyeol asked, looking down at his palms.

“So that I can keep a closer eye on you.” Junmyeon paced back to the other end of the bed.

Chanyeol snorted. “There you go again— treating me like I’m a kid.”

Junmyeon was starting to look a bit frustrated. As if he was already stressed over the situation. “Chanyeol, you were _shot_ yesterday,” he said.

“I’m not dead, am I?” Chanyeol retorted.

He didn’t understand why this was such a big deal when Baekhyun and even Junmyeon himself had told him that this happened all the time in their line of work.

“You could’ve been if you were alone,” Junmyeon said.

And he was right. Seeing as he couldn’t move an inch as it was, he could’ve been shot in a more fatal spot. He could’ve bled out then and there. Especially if it wasn’t for Kyungsoo pushing him out of the way.

So Chanyeol couldn’t say anything in response this time.

“I don’t understand you,” Junmyeon said. “You’re usually more careful than this. You’re smart, you’re fast, and you’ve got insane reflexes— what happened out there?” he asked.

Chanyeol looked down. “I don’t know,” he said.

“I seem to recall telling you that taking this job and coming here was a terrible idea,” Junmyeon said.

“Please don’t be that way,” Chanyeol said.

“No. Look at you—” Junmyeon said, “you’ve already been pushing yourself beyond your limits for this job. You practically _let_ Byun Baekhyun hurt you, and now, for all you know, you’re being targeted by someone for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he said. “And don’t think they’d miss next time just because they missed yesterday. They’re probably trying to find you as we speak.”

Chanyeol couldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t have had anything to say even if he wanted to, because Junmyeon was right. This _had_ gone too far, but was it worth it just dropping everything now and leaving after all the progress he made?

No, it wasn’t.

Junmyeon rubbed his temples and started pacing across the room at Chanyeol’s lack of response.

“Listen, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon started. “You’re going to spend the next few days recovering, and after that, I’m personally driving you back to Seoul,” he said. “I’m not taking any risks and neither should you.”

Chanyeol raised a brow. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he asked. “I have a job to finish. I’m bound to a contract, for fuck’s sake. I can’t just leave.”

“I’ll take care of Byun if that’s all you’re worried about,” Junmyeon said.

“It’s not _just_ about that! I’m not going anywhere. I can’t go. Not now.” Chanyeol insisted.

“Chanyeol—”

“I _can’t,_ hyung,” Chanyeol cut him off. “Not when I’m finally close to the truth. I can’t leave,” he said.

Junmyeon slammed his fist against the wall next to him.

To see him lose his composure like that was a first for Chanyeol. Any other word or thought that was left hanging in Chanyeol’s mind fell, and he sat there staring at Junmyeon, who still had his fist on the wall. Then he slowly dropped it.

“Fine,” Junmyeon said. “I won’t try to protect you anymore, but don’t come running back to me when Byun Baekhyun screws you over like he does everyone else,” he continued. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Junmyeon turned around to leave the room, opening the door a bit too harshly.

“You know the way out of here,” he said as he shut the door.

Chanyeol listened to the faint sound of Junmyeon’s retreating footsteps as he made his way downstairs before he let out a deep breath and rested his back against the board again.

This was getting old and repetitive.

He admired Junmyeon more than anyone out there. Before he met him, the only people he had somewhat of an emotional attachment to were his grandparents and his father. When Junmyeon came into the picture six years ago, things somehow changed for Chanyeol for the better. Even though they weren’t exactly on good terms at the beginning, they both grew to have a mutual respect and liking for one another.

While Chanyeol slowly became dependent on Junmyeon as he started trusting him more, the latter quickly took on the protective older brother role. At first, Chanyeol appreciated it and knew Junmyeon only meant well, but it soon got overbearing until it turned into _this._

Chanyeol couldn’t _stand_ it whenever Junmyeon tried to tell him what to do. He couldn’t stand the way Junmyeon spoke like his word was law.

It was true that Junmyeon often got his _I told you so_ moments after warning Chanyeol or advising him— even when Chanyeol didn’t ask for it. He still preferred trial and error over living sheltered under Junmyeon’s protection. He preferred going through life without thinking _what if_. Especially after everything he had found out about his father after coming here, despite Junmyeon attempting to stop him several times.

He sighed. This was for the best. He didn’t know whether he could mend things with Junmyeon when it all finally came to an end, but he would hang onto that for then. _If_ he managed to survive long enough to see it through to the end— the sudden throbbing pain in his arm reminded him of the other possibility.

Chanyeol was still a little afraid of how badly things might turn, but he was determined to tough it out.

He turned to his right, to the bedside table, where both his phones were connected to chargers. Junmyeon’s attention to details such as that was one of the things that made Chanyeol appreciate him as much as he did.

Another look around the room, and he found a new sweater hung at the back of the door. He could see the ends of a pair of jeans behind it. His clothes from yesterday were nowhere to be found, though. He probably bled through both the top and bottom, and Junmyeon decided to throw them out on his behalf.

Still feeling a little sluggish, Chanyeol decided to rest a bit longer before leaving and heading back to Nam-gu.

Chanyeol allowed his eyes to close, and he listened closely to the sound the curtain made each time a breeze came in through the window.

When faint footsteps could be heard from the direction of the door, Chanyeol thought, for a split second, that Junmyeon was coming back for another round.

Until he opened his eyes and was met with a gun barrel pointing at the space between his eyes.

Sneaky motherfucker.

Chanyeol remained calm and collected for the most part, only because he was still exhausted by the amount of drugs and painkillers that were still in his system.

Instead of letting any fear he felt seep through, he put on his poker face and confronted the newcomer.

“So it _was_ you,” Chanyeol said. “Both yesterday in Haeundae _and_ two years ago with Byun Baekbeom. You here to finish me off?”

Yixing chuckled and retrieved his gun. He pulled down his hood— which wasn’t really doing its intended job.

“I knew you’d quickly have me figured out, so I spoke to Yongnam about it but he doesn’t want to get rid of you just yet,” he said. “Take this as a warning though, Park Chanyeol. Stop digging up the past.”

Which past was he referring to? The history between the Kims and the Byuns? Or particularly Yixing’s?

Chanyeol raised a brow. “And if I don’t?” he asked.

Yixing leaned in a bit too close for Chanyeol’s comfort and pushed the gun’s barrel against his forehead.

“If you don’t, I’ll aim elsewhere next time,” he whispered before backing away completely. He put the gun back into the holster hidden under his jacket.

“I’m not stopping until I find what I’m looking for,” Chanyeol said for the hundredth time since he woke up. “Why not just kill me now and get it over with?”

Yixing clicked his tongue. “I’d suggest you don’t tangle with Kim Yongnam, boy,” he said. “See, he may value you for some reason, but he sure as hell doesn’t value anyone you might care about. And trust me, you’d be surprised to find that he knows _everything_ you’ve been up to. Even from behind what you might have thought were closed doors.”

Could this have been about Baekhyun? How exactly did he know _that?_

The informant’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t safe at Junmyeon’s, and he also wasn’t safe in his apartment at Baekhyun’s building. How did it come to this?

“Anyway, I highly advise you stop snooping around,” Yixing said as he walked back to the window, preparing to jump out of it. “Until next time, Park.”

This couldn’t be happening. He knew the situation was bad— fuck, he was just _shot._ What he couldn’t grasp was that the situation was _dire_.

He would toss out his plan and think of another one. But for now, he couldn’t stay here. Not in a place Yixing had such easy access. He needed to leave.

So he got off the bed. Despite swaying a few times, he managed to grab the clothes laid out for him and he put them on.

He ordered a taxi to take him back to Nam-gu. Back to Baekhyun.

——————

Chanyeol was in too much of a hurry to leave Junmyeon’s house that he forgot about his coat.

He couldn’t remember whether he had his coat on him or not when he was initially brought to Junmyeon’s place, so it was never in the equation to begin with as he practically jogged out of the front door and into his taxi waiting for him just outside.

Chanyeol shook off any ounce of regret he had over that as soon as he was inside the apartment complex in Nam-gu. He walked past the security guard as well as the 24 hour concierge, who was highly trained, trusted, _and_ handpicked by Baekhyun himself.

He used his own set of keys to get past the electronic doors and once he was inside the elevator, he couldn’t bring himself to press the key for the floor his apartment was located in.

That place didn’t feel safe to be in anymore. And Chanyeol doubted it ever was in the first place, given that there might have been surveillance cameras in there all along— he had to admit though, being watched by the Byuns wasn’t as terrifying a thought as being watched by the Kims was. Mostly because he knew and somewhat trusted Kyungsoo and Baekhyun. He didn’t know and he sure as hell didn’t trust Kim Yongnam or his son.

He took a deep breath and shuffled through the set of keys until he found the one that unlocked the upper floors Baekhyun and Kyungsoo lived in. He figured he would be more at ease up there knowing no one besides them had access to those stories.

Once he got to the top floor, he didn’t waste any time making himself comfortable at Baekhyun’s apartment. He chose to settle on the couch and turn the TV on, keeping the volume low as to not distract his train of thoughts.

Since it was night time and he was tired and in a moderate amount of pain, he would have to save looking into the situation at his apartment for the morning. 

But why did Yixing tell him about the security and safety of his apartment being compromised? Was it on purpose? Did they take it down? Or did they have no further use for it now that they’ve learned about a couple of possible weak points they could use against Chanyeol?

If that truly was the case, then Chanyeol should have nothing to fear in going back down there _now_ and continue living and working— after he had located and taken down whatever devices they used to observe him of course, hence why he would get to that when he regained his energy. Although just the idea of his apartment being so easily accessible in a building with high security detail as such was enough for him not to want to go down there at all, but he knew he would eventually be forced to.

Chanyeol yawned, which prompted him to look at the time on his phone. He woke up at around 7pm, and it was almost 10. Just how bad was his wound for him to require as much painkillers to keep him knocked out for so long and to _still_ want to go back to sleep after waking up on his own accord? Surely that should have been enough of an indication that he had enough.

Turning his head slightly to the left, he glanced at the wounded area under his sweater. He was as equally tempted to take a look at it as he wasn’t.

Simply recalling the whole thing made him sick to his stomach. During his taxi ride back, he berated himself over and over for not moving away in time.

It was specifically odd because it wasn’t the first time Chanyeol had been shot at. And he had been able to get out of harm’s way each and every time it had happened. So why couldn’t he this time? That thought was more traumatising to him than the gunshot wound itself. If anything, it didn’t shake him up one bit.

Yixing’s visit was what caused him absolute _terror_.

For someone who enjoyed observing others, Chanyeol _loathed_ being under someone else’s observation. For someone who purposefully looked for other people’s weaknesses as part of his living, he hated the idea of others knowing his.

And when did Baekhyun become his weakness, anyway? Because other than his privacy and confidentiality being invaded, he couldn’t care less about his own safety at this point. Yet he seemed to care about Baekhyun’s quite a bit.

Since he knew they wouldn’t kill him now— because he was _certain_ Yixing wouldn’t have missed the first time if they actually wanted him dead— he had no qualms continuing his search for his father’s murderer as well as his deep background check on Yixing. For the sake of providing solid proof to Baekhyun that he was the one behind Baekbeom’s death, as he couldn’t blurt it out to him without any information to back it up.

Yet he came to the decision that he would cease both searches until he could get back at it without putting Baekhyun at risk.

Byun Baekhyun _of all things and people_ was his priority right now. And he couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

The sound of the elevator arriving had Chanyeol’s mind stop in its tracks. Confident footsteps striding towards the living room followed, immediately making it clear to Chanyeol that Baekhyun wasn’t surprised to see that the lights were on or that a movie was playing on TV while he was away.

It made it clear that Baekhyun wasn’t afraid of whoever would be greeting him inside his own home— that he either wasn’t scared or would never give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him shaken up over something he deemed as trivial as someone breaking into his apartment.

Before tonight, Chanyeol _thought_ he possessed that ability. Now he only wished he did.

He didn’t turn to watch Baekhyun come into the living room, but he did catch the amused hum that came out of his throat— possibly at the idea of Chanyeol inviting himself _and_ settling in his apartment on his own.

When Baekhyun came into his line of vision, Chanyeol glanced at him. His tie was loose and top buttons of his shirt were undone, and his coat as well as his suit jacket were already tossed on the other couch. He set the plastic bag he had been carrying on the coffee table and sat down next to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol turned his head slightly to his right and watched Baekhyun unload onto the table what Chanyeol could only guess was his dinner given the various takeout containers and the smell.

It looked a bit much for one person. He didn’t take Baekhyun for the takeout type in the first place. He imagined he was the type to have fancy steak or expensive barbecue dinners every other night like Junmyeon did.

Without even asking if Chanyeol had eaten, Baekhyun slid a pair of disposable chopsticks to his side of the table after opening all the lids to the containers, and he cracked his own chopsticks open and started eating.

Chanyeol silently looked at the chopsticks in front of him, debating whether he should reach out for them or not, noting there was even an extra order of rice. Did he know he was here? It all felt a bit too intentional to him.

“How’s your wound?” Baekhyun asked after taking in a mouthful of one of the beef dishes closer to him.

Realising he was too hungry to even watch Baekhyun eat, he leaned forward slightly to get a hold of the chopsticks, then he started unwrapping them using his right arm.

“Can’t feel it,” Chanyeol lied.

He tried to split the disposable wooden utensils into two with one hand, mentally applauding himself when he easily managed.

“Kim Junmyeon said you weren’t coming back,” Baekhyun said. “So why are you here?”

The two of them sure kept in contact far more than two people who supposedly disliked each other did. There was always a hint of contempt that accompanied Junmyeon’s name out of Baekhyun’s mouth, and the exact same could be said about the other.

Being his least favourite person at that moment, Chanyeol snorted at the thought of what happened earlier.

“Junmyeon hyung doesn’t get to decide things for me. He never did,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun hummed. “I see,” he said.

Chanyeol leaned forward to look at the variety of food, settling for a small portion of steamed rice.

In the silence interrupted only by Baekhyun’s chewing, Chanyeol briefly thought of telling Baekhyun about Yixing being the mole he had been searching for.

Then Yixing’s words echoed in Chanyeol’s mind and he completely let go of the idea. If he spilled everything to Baekhyun now, especially without any solid proof to back him up, the COO wouldn’t believe him and would probably kick him out and send him on his way. And that wouldn’t do.

Chanyeol needed to stay in Busan until he found out the rest of what his father was involved in and what could have eventually led to his demise.

Another reason was that a repressed memory of his was triggered when Baekhyun touched his scar. That _had_ to have meant something. Anything— the hand, the moment, the motion, or even the kind of tension he felt at that moment.

Whatever it was, what if Chanyeol could only get it from Baekhyun because of the kind of connection he felt with him? Because of the tranquility he felt being with Baekhyun that morning, or because of how he was able to lower his guard down to that level with Baekhyun without even realising it?

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was fucked up to feel like that with someone like Byun Baekhyun. But honestly— what did he know? He had never felt like that with anyone to begin with, and it was only because he never allowed himself to feel that way towards anyone.

And it just so happened to occur naturally with Baekhyun. By the time he realised anything had sparked, it was already at a point of no return. All he could do about those feelings now was keep them separated from the professional aspect of their relationship. Whatever that was anymore.

“I’m giving you a couple of weeks off to recover,” Baekhyun suddenly said.

Chanyeol turned to look at him.

“You can’t even focus on eating without spacing out. How am I supposed to trust you to continue your job in this state?”

The informant let out a sheepish chuckle. “I do need some time off to think things through anyway,” he said. “Turned out it wasn’t Hosung either.”

“I figured as much,” Baekhyun said.

Having let go of the idea of bringing up Yixing completely, Chanyeol quickly came up with a way to go on about making this job as long as possible without raising Baekhyun’s suspicions. Something to keep both Baekhyun and himself busy until he could dig up a proper reason as to why they should start keeping a close eye on the actual culprit.

“Is there someone else you want me to do a background check on? Someone else that could have been behind it?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun put his chopsticks down and stretched. “Not for now,” he said. “I’ll let you know if that’s changed once you’ve recovered though, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes and ignored the jab.

Having put his own chopsticks down on the coffee table a while ago, Baekhyun took care of putting the leftovers away. Neither of them ate much.

Chanyeol sure as hell didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he wasn’t sacred of being alone after his little encounter with Yixing earlier.

He had never been paranoid about being watched to this extent. He felt like he could catch a glimpse of Yixing at any turned corner. More than ever before— maybe for the _first time ever,_ Chanyeol needed someone else’s company. It was something he never thought he would feel, let alone depend on.

After putting things away and cleaning up a little, Baekhyun started moving around in preparation to end his day. He didn’t kick Chanyeol out, so maybe he was okay with him staying.

Chanyeol had no intention on imposing any further, so he wasn’t going to stay unless Baekhyun spelled it out for him that it was fine with him.

He remained on the couch, fiddling around on his phone long enough for Baekhyun to shower and change into his sleepwear.

Just as he started dozing off when his phone fell from his grip, Baekhyun’s voice startled him awake.

“Do you expect me to cater to your every needs just because you got yourself injured?” Baekhyun asked as he emerged from his room, ready to retire for the day. “You’ll ruin my couch if you sleep there. Either go to the guest room or leave.”

Chanyeol didn’t need to be told twice. And while the offer was still there, he drowsily made his way to the guest room and slept there.

——————

The ache in his arm quickly became something he could get used to.

He couldn’t say as much about the splint holding it in place, though. Having his left arm completely immobile was something he couldn’t adapt into his current daily routine.

Not that Chanyeol ever had a routine before now. He was used to simply doing whatever he felt like doing, getting whichever task he felt like doing finished at his own pace.

The thing that made him truly enjoy his job was how unpredictable it could get at times. Although in a way, Chanyeol could almost always see things coming, so was it really unpredictable? So to say Chanyeol liked the unforeseeable was a stretch.

His ongoing predicament wasn’t something he saw coming— not in the way it did, at least. He knew getting injured during his stay in Busan was inevitable when he accepted the job, but it never crossed his mind that it would be in the form of a gunshot wound— rather other less significant injuries such as cuts or even burns.

Chanyeol sighed as he locked his laptop’s screen and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.

He glanced at the time on his phone’s lock screen. It was almost time for Baekhyun to come back from the office. And he wasn’t just basing this off the last three days he had spent in Baekhyun’s penthouse.

Being the proper information broker he was, he kept a track record of Baekhyun’s and Kyungsoo’s schedules over the past three weeks. From the time they had gotten up and left for work, to the usual time they both got back to the building.

Watching Baekhyun up close had been a different experience compared to watching him walk across the building’s courtyard through his living room window and the security footage from the lobbies and halls— courtesy of Strike for teaching him how to hack into those, of course.

Baekhyun often let his guard down over the past three days. Chanyeol wasn’t sure if it was because he was in the comfort of his own apartment or because he finally trusted Chanyeol enough to allow him to see things no one else saw.

It was about time anyway, wasn’t it? They saw each other at their most vulnerable already. They’ve done things together that Chanyeol hadn’t done the same way with anyone else. He didn’t know about Baekhyun, but it felt like things were moving in the right direction for them.

He still couldn’t quite put a label on their relationship, but did it need one at this point?

One thing he feared was never getting to hear or see how Baekhyun really felt about him. And that uncertainty made Chanyeol anxious about getting too comfortable; it made him continue brushing these feelings off as something that didn’t go beyond sexual attraction.

With the way Baekhyun had been treating him since he had gotten back from Junmyeon’s though, Chanyeol had a valid reason to be reassured about what they had, but something told him to hold back on that for a while longer.

Chanyeol kicked the blanket he had been snuggled in off and he threw his head back, closing his eyes.

If they weren’t who they were, things would be easier.

He didn’t know how long he stayed in that position and he must have dozed off like that for a bit. He woke up to the sound of the elevator and approaching footsteps.

No greeting came with it— no remark over how he was lying on the couch, and no comment over the empty ceramic cups he left on the table.

Chanyeol brought his head back down to get a proper look at Baekhyun, who had already been sitting comfortably on the couch, one hand holding up his phone and the other elbow propped up on the couch’s arm.

It was vague, but it was the same distressed look on his face from Chanyeol’s first night in Busan that eventually led to Baekhyun etching a deeper scar on his face.

“Hello to you too,” Chanyeol said.

“Mm?” Baekhyun took a second too long to look at Chanyeol. “Yeah,” he said.

Just like that, the expression that had betrayed his emotions was completely gone; replaced with his familiar neutral one. Perhaps he thought Chanyeol had been asleep.

The informant frowned. “You seem distracted,” he said.

Baekhyun put his phone down and turned his entire body to Chanyeol’s direction.

“Just some minor problems with the board,” Baekhyun dismissed. “I see you’ve had a busy day today,” he said with a brief side-glance at the coffee table.

Chanyeol didn’t know whether Baekhyun was referring to the fact that he brought his laptop up earlier that day, or to the multiple cups of coffee that he had yet to clean up. Although given the fact that he recently learned how surprisingly neat Baekhyun liked his apartment to be, he went with the latter.

He chuckled. “Guess I’ll clean up.”

With one final stretch of the limbs that he could move, he stood up and carried the mess of his making to the kitchen, managing to carry the three ceramic cups he had used in one hand.

It took longer than necessary, but he managed to wash the dishes he had used throughout the day, leaving them on the rack near the sink to dry.

On his way back from the kitchen, he nearly collided with Baekhyun had the other not forced him to stop by grabbing a hold of his right arm.

“Where’s the fire?” Baekhyun asked, loosening his grip but not letting go.

“Didn’t want you to miss me too much,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun didn’t say anything.

Chanyeol took one look at Baekhyun’s figure, noting that he had taken his blazer off and that the necktie that was loosely hanging around his neck was discarded somewhere.

His black shirt’s sleeves were rolled up, revealing the Byun Group’s symbol of the half geometric and half realistic Siberian Husky that had been engraved into the skin of his wrist. Chanyeol didn’t pay that any mind a second longer— not that he could with the way the veins on Baekhyun’s arms were noticeably more visible than usual beneath the tattoo and all the way up his forearm.

Chanyeol’s eyes traced it up to Baekhyun’s shoulders, his neck— made bare by the undone buttons of his shirt— up to his sharp jaw, his high cheekbones, and finally his eyes.

Then Chanyeol was immediately clouded by that feeling that accompanied that particular way that Baekhyun looked at him, causing his breath to stop in his throat.

In the quiet, exasperated shake of Baekhyun’s head as he slowly dragged his hand up Chanyeol’s arm, and in the warmth he felt when Baekhyun brushed his fingers against his jaw, tilting his face down into a kiss; Chanyeol could tell that they were going to go through with this again.

And it was about time. There had been an insane level of tension between them over the past few days.

Chanyeol could feel Baekhyun’s hands trail down across his chest and abdomen until they settled at the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it up. He pulled away from the kiss briefly to pull the shirt off carefully down Chanyeol’s injured arm, and he tossed it to the side.

“What if I wanted to do that myself?” Chanyeol asked, sounding breathier than he thought he would be so early on.

Baekhyun stepped closer and he placed his palm behind Chanyeol’s head, pulling him down again.

Surely it would have been easier for them both if Baekhyun were to stand at the tip of his toes, but that wasn’t happening.

“You can do it next time,” Baekhyun whispered. Then he brought their lips closer into another kiss. 

This was the only thing that still felt right to Chanyeol after the discoveries he made over the past month.

For Baekhyun, he would display every scar and every unforgivable flaw he had. No pretences and no defences.

He had been wondering over the past few days when it would be Baekhyun’s turn to lay everything out for him to see.

Chanyeol felt the sudden urge to take a couple of steps forward— prompting Baekhyun to follow, as he pinned him against the wall, as if to prove how strongly he felt and how desperate he was getting for Baekhyun to let him in.

And Baekhyun might have known that. The laugh that vibrated against Chanyeol’s mouth might have given it away. He wasn’t entirely sure, and he wasn’t in the mood to explain himself either.

He wasn’t going to start something that was sure to take all this away from him and drive Baekhyun even further.

Chanyeol couldn’t get enough of the way Baekhyun tasted or the way his body was taking pleasure in rediscovering those flavours.

The hunger in Baekhyun’s kisses this time took him by surprise— and it wasn’t that he hadn’t paid full attention to it last time, but it seemed like he held back. Or maybe it was simply the fact that they were both too lost at the moment to care.

Again, with how little Baekhyun gave off, Chanyeol would never know for certain. All he could do was _guess_ with Baekhyun.

Though he was promptly drawn to the realisation that it wasn’t just him that was laid bare under the stare of the other— whilst that was the case both physically and figuratively with Chanyeol, he caught a glimpse of the sly, pale neck flushed pink under the attention of his mouth.

Chanyeol tangled his fingers in Baekhyun’s hair, while the latter’s ghosted over the exposed skin of Chanyeol’s chest, eliciting a jolt from him that tightened his grip on Baekhyun’s hair. He didn’t seem to mind the sting it brought one bit.

Not that Chanyeol would’ve, either. Right now, he _wanted_ to be held too tight. He _wanted_ to be kissed to hard; he wanted to be torn down and remade by Baekhyun. With the wet heat of Baekhyun’s mouth, with the friction of his tongue, and with the soft press of his lips against his.

He didn’t know how many minutes passed with all these thoughts swirling in his mind just as Baekhyun did all those things. Soon enough, Baekhyun broke the kiss and pulled him to the main bedroom.

Chanyeol guessed from last time that Baekhyun probably had a preference with the setting and his surroundings.

As soon as Baekhyun switched the bedside table’s lamp on, he was back facing Chanyeol near the side of the bed. With his hand cradling the back of Chanyeol’s head, Baekhyun feathered kisses across Chanyeol’s chest with his teeth barely scraping at his collarbone and his nipples. And with his eyes closed and mind too focused on the sensations Baekhyun was giving him, Chanyeol barely noticed the other working on his own belt and Chanyeol’s shorts, until he felt them sliding down his legs.

From the sound and feel of it, Baekhyun also rid himself of the confines of his own slacks, but he unexpectedly found himself reluctant to slide out of his own.

Oddly enough, he was struck by a baseless rush of vulnerability the more he laid himself out for Baekhyun. But just as quickly as it made itself present, it simmered down when Baekhyun pressed closer for another kiss as his smooth bare thigh warmly brushed against what was exposed of Chanyeol’s; a reminder that it wasn’t just him that was vulnerable at the moment.

Because it wasn’t as though it was the first time they would see each other like this. Once wasn’t much, but it still wasn’t _nothing_.

As if he sensed something was off with Chanyeol, not wanting to give him the chance to linger on the thought for long, Baekhyun backed out of the kiss and watched Chanyeol with a heavy lidded stare.

Under that gaze, Chanyeol swore his heart pummelled hard enough for his ribcage to shake.

With a satisfied smile tugging at his lips, Baekhyun let out an amused chuckle.

“You’re overthinking this,” Baekhyun said as he ran his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair. “And here I was, thinking I was offering you a tempting alternative.”

Chanyeol shook his head. “You are, though,” he said.

Baekhyun hummed, his smile fading away under another kiss while Chanyeol brought his uninjured arm up to explore every inch of Baekhyun’s milky skin— something that had been on his mind since the first time as he felt he hadn’t appreciated it as much as he should have before.

He dragged his fingertips along Baekhyun’s pale arm before running them down his side. Feeling brave, he broke the kiss and shifted his lips’ focus to Baekhyun’s jaw, down to his throat and eventually his collarbone, just to indulge in the sounds that came out of Baekhyun’s mouth in response.

Of course, Baekhyun’s hands weren’t going to sit this one back. And every part of Chanyeol’s skin he touched felt ablaze. His manicured nails faintly dug into Chanyeol’s arm and for once, it didn’t seem as quite as dominating as Baekhyun always felt.

And maybe it meant that he was finally letting his guard down too.

In the midst of it, Chanyeol shivered when Baekhyun brushed his fingers across the scar he left behind on the bridge of his nose. Half-lidded eyes regretfully locked on to Chanyeol’s.

Whatever Baekhyun intended to say was left unspoken. And Chanyeol understood why.

Chanyeol did what he did because he wanted to assert his own control over Baekhyun in a way. And Baekhyun did what he did because he wanted to protect the person most important to him.

“I brought it upon myself,” Chanyeol decided to say.

And while that was a fact, he still surprised himself by saying it out loud.

“No, not that,” Baekhyun said.

He quietly kept looking at him. For a second, it seemed like something else was on his mind.

Chanyeol tilted his head slightly.

“What is it?” he asked.

To which Baekhyun responded with a kiss, mouthing “it’s nothing,” in between.

He cupped Chanyeol’s face between his hands, while Chanyeol’s found something to hold onto in Baekhyun’s soft hair. His other arm remained splinted between their bodies; pain long forgotten and fingertips grazing Baekhyun’s stomach muscles but unable to do anything more.

Letting go of Baekhyun’s hair, he brought his hand down to join the other, sliding his fingers along Baekhyun’s stomach that seemed to have fluttered at the touch, before his palm found the length of Baekhyun’s cock— to which Baekhyun jerked in surprise; his gasp muffled by the kiss they were sharing.

Chanyeol raised a brow and pulled out of the kiss, curiously stroking while he sucked lightly at the side of Baekhyun’s neck just to watch the skin redden under his attention.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Baekhyun asked.

The informant stopped altogether when Baekhyun grabbed his wrist roughly and pulled it away, pushing Chanyeol down to the bed.

“I thought we were—”

“We are,” Baekhyun said, climbing up the bed behind him and dragging him with ease to sit up against the headboard. “But we can’t get the most out of this with your one functional hand now, can we?” he added.

But I—” Chanyeol tried to say but he was shut down by Baekhyun once again when he placed a finger on his lips and shushed him.

“Let _hyung_ handle this, hm?”

Chanyeol felt compelled to nod and sit still. And Baekhyun wasted no time in doing what he wanted to do next.

He straddled him and Chanyeol found his breathing once more, leaning his body into every touch of Baekhyun’s hands.

Narrow, thoughtful eyes watched him for a second before a hand reached out for a clear bottle on the nightstand. He took a hold of Chanyeol’s right hand, giving his fingers a light reassuring squeeze, before pouring out some of the slick, oily fluid on the centre of his palm.

Baekhyun tossed the bottle behind him and interlocked his fingers with Chanyeol’s, clasping his own palm over the glossy liquid. He leaned closer to Chanyeol’s head and let out a soft breath.

“I’ll take good care of you,” he whispered.

With his eyes locked on Chanyeol’s, Baekhyun slowly wiggled back while remaining on the taller’s thighs until there was enough room for him to spread Chanyeol’s legs. And that was all it took for him to figure out what the elder was about to do.

“Wait—” Chanyeol muttered. “Hyung, I…”

Before he could say anything more, Baekhyun pressed their lips together in a sensual kiss, smiling reassuringly into it. He pulled back after a few seconds, unravelling their fingers and retrieving his hand to give his own hardened cock a few strokes. He then took a hold of Chanyeol’s wrist with his other hand, coaxing the taller’s lubricated hand towards his own hole.

“One finger first, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened and his skin flushed— out of everything they’ve done, _this_ was what made him want to hide under the sheets and out of Baekhyun’s sight? Not that he _could_ , as he couldn’t even tear his eyes away from the other’s if he wanted to. Baekhyun chuckled at the sight in front of him.

“Do you want hyung to do it for you?” Baekhyun asked as his thumb rubbed circles in Chanyeol’s wrist. “Or will you manage by yourself?”

The way a wave of pleasure washed over his stomach whenever Baekhyun uttered the word _hyung_ , Chanyeol was sure he would never be able to use it the same again.

Chanyeol had clearly never even thought of doing something like this before, let alone done it. But of course he would never admit that to Baekhyun.

Embarrassed to the point of not being able to lift a finger as his eyes remained on Baekhyun’s amused ones, he ended up doing it for him; taking his index finger and folding the rest away, then he guided Chanyeol’s fingertip along the crease of his ass, stopping against the tight knot of muscle.

And as Baekhyun guided Chanyeol’s fingertip to push through that resisting heat, his cock twitched. Baekhyun’s slim fingers began working his own cock with his other hand.

Chanyeol’s head dropped back against the pillows behind him. “Shit, hyung…”

Baekhyun chuckled again as he pushed Chanyeol’s finger farther in his own hole. Between what Baekhyun was doing to him and to _himself_ and the lust in Baekhyun’s eyes throughout, Chanyeol froze in place for a second because of the assault of pleasure those sensations gave him.

Everything he was seeing, feeling, and hearing, tangled up somewhere in the back of his head and he couldn’t tell anything apart anymore.

He let Baekhyun unfold his middle finger, and he guided it to join in on the next thrust in Chanyeol’s ass. It drew out a groan from Baekhyun and a gasp from Chanyeol at how easily his own finger slipped inside; how eagerly his body took it in.

At one point, Baekhyun added one of his own fingers, and Chanyeol’s hips began matching Baekhyun’s thrusts with a fixed pace until Chanyeol forced it to stop. He couldn’t stand this anymore. He pulled out his own fingers and took a hold of Baekhyun’s wrist.

“Enough of that,” Chanyeol said, panting. “I want _you,_ hyung…”

“So impatient,” Baekhyun snorted. “Fine.”

Baekhyun’s hands settled on one of Chanyeol’s thighs, lifting it up a little, while his other hand pumped his cock a couple of more times. Chanyeol held his breath as he watched— before Baekhyun, all at once, placed the head of his cock against Chanyeol’s hole, and immediately pressed inside.

Chanyeol’s eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. Even though it was with the same man, same location, same position, similar view— this felt _completely_ different than the first time. Baekhyun took charge just the same that time, but Chanyeol didn’t feel the static at the base of his spine and couldn’t hear past the ringing in his ears and Baekhyun’s occasional groan. He couldn’t even see past the COO as the room blurred into a place he couldn’t recognise anymore.

All he knew was Baekhyun at the moment. Absolutely nothing else mattered to him.

“Shit,” Chanyeol mumbled.

“Chanyeol…” Baekhyun called out. “I want you to watch. Just like last time,” he said.

And that was what he did. He knew Baekhyun meant that he wanted him to watch the way his cock sank into his ass, but all Chanyeol could see were those sly, droopy eyes instead. All he could focus on was the way Baekhyun’s plump lips parted in a silent cry, the way a flush cast itself across his sharp cheekbones, the way those slender fingers of his clawed at Chanyeol’s thighs as he thrust in and out— no doubt leaving marks and bruises.

Baekhyun brought back one hand and began working Chanyeol’s cock, and only then did Chanyeol notice that it still strained under Baekhyun’s fingers.

Chanyeol didn’t even need to move an inch, as promised. Because Baekhyun was doing more than enough to wring pleasure out of both of them. He still matched his hips with Baekhyun’s thrusts, though, unable to stay still despite Baekhyun’s commands.

“How does my cock feel, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asked between huffs of breath.

“Good—” Chanyeol moaned. “So fucking good.”

He moved his uninjured arm to rest over Baekhyun’s hand on his thigh, desperate to hold onto any part of Baekhyun’s body as he clenched and relaxed around the other’s cock.

Baekhyun smiled, finding the motion amusing, but he said nothing. Between the speed and precision at which Baekhyun stroked his cock all the while keeping up his pace with his thrusts, the adrenaline, the sounds Baekhyun was making as he quickened his pace— Chanyeol knew he wasn’t going to last long, and that soon enough he would be begging for the release that he didn’t know when Baekhyun would allow him to have.

A sticky bead of precome was starting to form at the tip of his cock as Baekhyun continued to stroke it at a steady, quick rhythm. And it didn’t seem like Baekhyun was coping any better. Chanyeol could practically feel the friction his insides were giving Baekhyun’s cock at his own impending release.

Baekhyun bent down that instant and nipped at the side of Chanyeol’s neck, and when he did, his following thrust took a different angle inside Chanyeol.

“Fuck!” Chanyeol groaned.

His vision swayed and briefly dotted in black— he had to blink it away.

Slim fingers tightened around Chanyeol’s cock as he thrust the same way again, and again, and _again,_ until Chanyeol’s thighs quivered. His hand clawed at the back of Baekhyun’s while his injured arm itched to move just to have something else to hold onto.

Chanyeol’s hips bucked and he came all over Baekhyun’s hand and their stomachs, but Baekhyun’s strokes on his cock only slowed down— didn’t stop.

He felt his insides erratically clenching and releasing around Baekhyun’s cock until he couldn’t thrust anymore even if he wanted to.

Letting go of Chanyeol’s cock and placing a hold on either sides of his hips, Baekhyun continued thrusting weakly until his orgasm got the best of him.

Chanyeol was still trembling as Baekhyun took his penis out, a moan escaped through the COO’s throat as he watched a velvety trickle of white slide down his pale skin when he took himself out completely.

Baekhyun remained hovered over Chanyeol; somehow still having enough energy not to collapse on top of him.

The sound of their breaths struggling to regulate filled the silence in the room as they both stared into each other’s eyes.

“Baekhyun hyung,” Chanyeol murmured.

Baekhyun hummed as he leaned closer and kissed just beneath Chanyeol’s jaw, poking his tongue out playfully.

“That was…”

_Amazing._

“I know,” Baekhyun said, as if he had heard what Chanyeol didn’t have the energy to say as they both continued to catch up to their breaths.

Baekhyun moved his body to Chanyeol’s right side, and he settled his head in the crook of Chanyeol’s neck; breath heavy against it.

As Chanyeol slowly regained awareness of his surroundings, he recalled an important detail from earlier. Curious because Baekhyun shut him off and switched gears immediately, he decided to bring it back up now that they were done.

“Earlier before we…” Chanyeol started, clearing his throat. “You were thinking of my scar, right?”

“Right,” Baekhyun simply responded.

Chanyeol frowned. For the first time since he had met Baekhyun, he had sensed something was off. He had felt it since Baekhyun walked in the apartment that evening, but didn’t think much of it.

Now, though, he could clearly hear it in Baekhyun’s voice.

As he vividly remembered, Baekhyun said he’d never apologise for something he didn’t regret doing. And he made it clear at the time that he didn’t regret cutting that healing scar back open.

Chanyeol had assumed it was about the scar because Baekhyun had been touching it when he had that apologetic look in his eyes. But was it just about that?

“Is there something else on your mind?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun groaned as he rolled away from Chanyeol’s neck to the other side of the bed. “You’re quite talkative today,” he said. “Let’s not ruin the moment with groundless accusations, okay?

Chanyeol sighed and dropped it for now. He didn’t want to have any trust Baekhyun currently had in him and any progress he had made tonight get torn away.

They stayed in their spots without another word, until their steady breathing was all that Chanyeol could hear. He thought Baekhyun dozed off for a while, just as he was starting to himself.

Eventually, Baekhyun got up and cleaned them both up the best he could, before dragging a drowsy Chanyeol with him to the shower.

Contrary to how Chanyeol thought this night would end, he still slept in the guest room.

——————

Chanyeol searched his apartment high and low over the following week, and found _nothing_.

Not even traces of cameras or listening devices having been anywhere. For all he knew, Yixing or whichever one of his associates were watching him from the _outside_. So despite his comfort for wall to ceiling windows and vast views, he has had all his curtains shut all week, with no intentions of pulling any of them back up anytime soon.

As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, he hadn’t been under this much distress in 10 years. The paranoia of feeling like he was being watched was really getting to him.

He suddenly felt anchored down by his overwhelming desire to find out more about his father, because as much as he wanted to continue, he was too afraid to make a move with the possibility of Zhang Yixing being back on his case, all the while risking Baekhyun’s safety— which he discovered he cared for more than he thought he did. He had been prioritising it over attending to his personal business in Busan.

Chanyeol couldn’t find a single moment of peace. He couldn’t sleep without waking up in the middle of the night to check his surroundings, he couldn’t help but jump up in surprise each time Dr. Kang knocked on his door for a check up, he couldn’t email any of his contacts without feeling like his inbox was hacked into, let alone make any phone calls without feeling like his phone was tapped and that there was someone listening on a third end. The idea of going out and meeting his contacts to get things done was completely out of the question.

Maybe he would have felt more at ease if he wasn’t at the disadvantage of being injured, because at least then he could defend himself if he needed to.

It was reasons like these why he never wanted to delve this deep into the underground world in the first place. There was nothing he could do about it now, though, given his father’s involvement— the one case for which he excused himself from crossing the lines he drew.

Yet at the same time, his father’s involvement and how he ended up gave him more of a drive to leave this place and work on finding out more about it as far away from the city as he could. Seoul wasn’t far enough, but it was a good start. He would stay in touch with his trusted contact from Busan; the less people who knew what he was looking into, the better— and he would continue searching for more information as to who else his father could have been involved with that would have gotten him killed.

If he was far from Busan, in the safety of his penthouse at the centre of Seoul, where crime rates were little to nonexistent, he would feel better about going on about his search.

He sighed, continuously tapping his feet from where he sat his sofa. He had come to the conclusion that his best choice at the moment was to fall back to recover in his own pace and regain his energy. He needed time to think things though, away from all of this. He would also finally be able to find out what Yongnam had been keeping in his top desk drawer.

A pang of regret briefly hit him over not accepting Junmyeon’s offer, but seeing as that ship had long since sailed, he would need to think of another way to carefully make it back to Seoul.

Chanyeol got up and left his apartment. He needed to leave the city as soon as he could, but he would have to let Baekhyun know of his intentions and plans first. Maybe he could even help him get back safely— although he highly doubted Baekhyun would be so generous.

It was well past 10pm, so Baekhyun should already be back from work.

As Chanyeol went inside and found that the lights of the entrance hall were off, he nearly went back into the elevator and left to return later. Then he heard the faint sound of Baekhyun’s fingers typing away at his keyboard.

He made his way inside to Baekhyun’s office, his neutral features conveyed a lack of any strong emotion he might have been feeling. He looked bored. If Chanyeol hated a part of his job that he had to take back home with him, he would be, too.

Without greeting him and without keeping his eyes lingered on the Byun for too long, Chanyeol sat on the sofa and tilted his head back to face the ceiling.

Baekhyun kept typing on his laptop and shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk every now and then. A few minutes passed by until he finally spoke.

“Kyungsoo should’ve sent for Dr. Kang to check on your wound today,” he said. “Did he make it?”

Chanyeol hummed. “He did,” he said. “Told me it’s healing just fine.”

“That’s good news,” Baekhyun said.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol said. “Thank you for this, by the way.”

“It’s the least we can do. We’re the ones who failed to meet our end of the contract while you risked your life to meet yours.”

Chanyeol turned his head to get a glimpse of Baekhyun, who still hasn’t moved his eyes away from his work.

“No,” Chanyeol sighed. “Kyungsoo did the best he could. Trust me, it could’ve been worse for both of us.”

Baekhyun paused. “In spite of what happened, I know he did,” he said. “He felt sorry about it, you know— that’s why he thought it would be best if you were under the protection of the Kims for a while.”

It was Kyungsoo’s idea? Could _he_ have been the one to call Junmyeon to tell him about the shooting, then? Junmyeon never told him. Chanyeol just assumed it was Kim Jongdae since he worked under Junmyeon.

And why did he feel guilty about it, anyway? Did he think the job they hired him to do was what put Chanyeol’s life at risk? Surely the Byuns would know of his little side quest by now. It _was_ the real reason why he got shot and threatened with a gun, after all. Although it was still somewhat— no, _entirely_ relevant to Baekbeom’s case, it seemed.

Because Yixing _did_ make it clear he didn’t do what he did to protect his own ass. At least Chanyeol was certain of that much.

“In any way, you’ve already ruled out all three of those imbeciles I have working for me, didn’t you?” Baekhyun asked. “Once Dr. Kang gives you the OK, I want you to finish up Jung Hosung’s folder for me.”

“It’s already mostly done,” Chanyeol said. “I can have it finalised and brought up to you within a few days.”

Baekhyun’s tongue clicked in annoyance. “Chanyeol, you can barely move your left arm,” he said. “Stop taking your injury so lightly, cause it isn’t.”

Chanyeol simply shrugged. If that was worry in Baekhyun’s words, he really needed to find a better way to convey it.

The COO sighed. “I’m not taking responsibility for any further damage you inflict on yourself by straining your arm,” he said. “That’s all on you.”

“It’s not like you took responsibility for the gunshot itself anyway,” Chanyeol said. 

There it was again, his tongue acting quicker than his brain.

Baekhyun didn’t sound angry, though.

“It wasn’t our fault you didn’t move out of the way when Kyungsoo told you to,” he said. “Even if he _wanted to_ claim responsibility, I couldn’t allow him to. He did his part in keeping you alive, and that’s that.”

“Hey—” Chanyeol started. “I was just stating a fact, no need to get all defensive.”

Baekhyun let out an exasperated sigh and got off his desk. He made his way around it to the sofa Chanyeol sat on, and he sat closer to him than he usually did.

“Is there a particular reason you’re here, Chanyeol?” he said. “Or is this just another excuse for you not to be alone cause you’re scared?”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side away from Baekhyun.

“That’s why you were here last week, wasn’t it?” he said, his tone dripping in pleasure at his own discovery. “You looked so vulnerable. You turned away the Kims’ help— and may I add, it was quite the dumb move. Then you ran straight back to me as if being here would guarantee your safety as opposed to being under the protection of the man you so unwittingly trust the most.”

If only Baekhyun knew exactly who he ran away from, and that he should be running away from as well.

But he was too tongue-tied by Yixing’s words in his head.

So he snorted and focused Baekhyun’s attention to another aspect of the ordeal. “So what?” Chanyeol said. “Am I supposed to be ashamed of how I reacted to getting shot at?”

Baekhyun chuckled. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“After the first time I got shot at, I couldn’t sleep or spend a waking moment alone for about a month,” Baekhyun said. “While the 10 year age gap between Baekbeom hyung and I made it impossible for us to get along, he spent almost that entire month keeping me company.”

Chanyeol raised both brows, completely dumbfounded. Did Baekhyun just… _open up_ to him? 

“So even the great Byun Baekhyun has his moments of weakness, huh?” he wondered.

“I was barely 14, Chanyeol.”

14 years old and probably handled it better than Chanyeol was at the moment.

“What I’m trying to get at is,” Baekhyun said as he inched closer to Chanyeol. “I can entertain you and make you forget the pain in your arm for a while if that’s what you’re here for.”

Chanyeol whipped his head back to his direction and watched with wide eyes as Baekhyun leaned closer until he made their lips meet. And unlike other times, he didn’t waste a second before parting his lips, deepening the kiss and roughening it up with his pace and force.

He brought both his hands up and found his grip on either sides of Chanyeol’s neck, locking him in place. And Chanyeol immediately started losing himself in Baekhyun’s strong hold once again.

This time, though, he reminded himself what he was there for.

It wasn’t for sex, as much as he continuously thought about it and _craved_ it since last time. As much of a good idea it was to loosen Baekhyun up with _that_ first before asking him something he might disapprove of, he couldn’t do it. Mostly because it probably wouldn’t have any effect on the COO.

Chanyeol stopped reciprocating to the kiss, and placed his hands over Baekhyun’s, pulling them down; prompting Baekhyun to stop and pull away.

With only the sound of their heavy intakes of air filling the room, Chanyeol quickly cleared his mind and found a way to open this topic. And it was to just get on with it.

“That’s actually not what I’m here for…” he said. “I came to talk to you about something.”

“Hmm?” Baekhyun questioned as he sat back on the couch properly, seemingly dissatisfied.

“I want to get out of town for a while,” Chanyeol said.

“And go where exactly?”

“Seoul,” he simply answered.

Baekhyun frowned but didn’t say anything, and Chanyeol took that as an opening to justify his decision— which was starting to look more like a request.

“I thought about it long and hard. I can work on finding the one you’re looking for from there, and I’ll come back here to finish the job when I’m ready.”

“When you’re ready…” Baekhyun echoed.

Chanyeol realised he shouldn’t have phrased it that way, but he couldn’t take it back.

“That’s right,” he said.

“Didn’t you tell Kyungsoo you already had a lead?” Baekhyun asked.

Right. He did, didn’t he? Just before Yixing walked in and shot him.

“I did—”

Baekhyun stood up and walked in the direction of his desk, silencing Chanyeol. “I think it’d be best if you stayed and focused on recovering, then continued to pursue it,” he said. “You can go back to Seoul for good after.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Chanyeol said. “I _did_ have another lead, but I lost it. Besides, I think I need some time away from the city after what happened.”

“Is this about your safety?” Baekhyun stopped midway and turned around to ask.

He couldn’t say it wasn’t and he couldn’t say it was, either.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Chanyeol said.

“You’ve missed your chance at getting away last week,” Baekhyun said. “The offer was on the table, and you refused it. Why don’t you just stick to the decision you’ve made?”

He kept getting interrupted by Baekhyun, who kept on disregarding everything he said. Nothing frustrated Chanyeol more than trying to have a conversation with someone as stubborn as Baekhyun.

So he unintentionally snapped at him.

“Have you listened to a word I said?”

Chanyeol used to have all his emotions in check. Before Baekhyun, he never let anyone provoke him like that. And now it seemed to have become a normal occurrence whenever he was talking with the other. He easily lost control, which only made things worse.

“I have. While you’re looking for _your_ best interests, I’ve decided to look for mine,” Baekhyun said. “I don’t trust you enough to let you go back to Seoul with all your newly acquired information about the Byun Group.”

There he went bringing up his trust issues with Chanyeol again. Of course he felt a bit irked at the lack of trust from Baekhyun’s end even after all this time, because apart from Chanyeol’s ability to gain other people’s trust easily, he was somewhat upset by Baekhyun’s words.

After everything he had done for Baekhyun, after everything they have done _together_ — hell, after what they almost did mere moments ago, Baekhyun didn’t seem to trust him even the slightest.

It made Chanyeol’s blood boil.

“You’re saying you _still_ don’t trust me?” Chanyeol asked. “Then what were you planning on doing once I was done with this job? Kill me and hope to bury the secrets I’ve learned along the way?”

“I’ll have known when the time came. You didn’t even finish your job yet,” Baekhyun said.

“You’re not making any sense, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol said. “If you still don’t trust me, then what the hell’s the point of all this?”

“For the last fucking time, this isn’t about—”

Chanyeol stood up. “I get it!” he shouted. “This isn’t about me as an information broker, this is about me as a _person_ ,” he said. “I’m talking about all the time we’ve spent together, specifically after everything we’ve _done_ together— after what we _just_ did right there on the couch. How on earth do you do all that with someone you don’t trust?”

To Chanyeol’s surprise, Baekhyun laughed at his outburst. Chanyeol watched him as he hunched over slightly and placed a hand on one side of his stomach as he _laughed._

He stood quietly, waiting for Baekhyun to finish and maybe tell him what part of what he said was funny.

When his laughter finally died down, Baekhyun wiped the smile off his face completely and looked right into Chanyeol’s eyes.

“You’re just one of many, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said. “I hope you weren’t thinking you were the only one or that you were special in any way.”

Chanyeol didn’t know how to respond to that. His slightly parted lips that were usually prepared for an instant return of fire, shut closed. Whatever else he had to say was long gone and forgotten.

It was naive of him to think that things might have changed since the last time they argued just because they slept together a couple of times. And it’s only been a little over a week.

This was Byun Baekhyun, for fuck’s sake. Of course he wouldn’t spare a couple of genuine emotions to someone who he, just a few months ago, probably didn’t know existed.

If it was true, then why did he willingly disclose a vulnerable memory from a past _no one_ knew about just a few minutes ago?

No, it might have sounded vulnerable to Chanyeol, but it probably meant little to nothing to Baekhyun if he could easily open up about it to someone he claimed he didn’t trust.

Shit, what has Baekhyun done to him?

He couldn’t take being in that room anymore, not with the way Baekhyun simply resumed what he was doing before Chanyeol walked in, ignoring the expression on Chanyeol’s face completely.

Rendered speechless and suddenly sick of being in Baekhyun’s presence, Chanyeol left the other’s apartment and went back to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chanbaek and their problems 🤧 but has chanyeol finally /actually/ had enough? 
> 
> stay tuned till sunday |･ω･)


	9. Chapter 9

As much as he hated to admit it, Chanyeol was still inexperienced.

Before any of this, he was _convinced_ he had people completely figured out— behaviours, thoughts, body language; he thought he had it all down.

He thought that just because he knew all of that, that he could have his way with others. That everything would go his way one way or another.

Perhaps that way of thinking and the way he truly believed he was better than everyone else he would work with, was what got him tangled in his current predicament.

Chanyeol had just finished up one of his daily checkups with Dr. Kang that he had been keeping up with for the past two weeks, and his wound was healing at a steady rate.

The extra precautions he had to take when showering and doing day to day tasks were still something he couldn’t get used to, though. It often left him giving up on trying to do the things he wanted to get done, thus leaving him with more time with these thoughts.

If this were any other previous time, he would have ignored what Baekhyun did. He would have let it go, he would have moved on and allowed the time they spent apart from one another’s toxicity to sort out the issues they had. Then they both would have pretended they never had any issues to begin with when they saw each other next.

This time was different, though.

Chanyeol had finally had enough.

Maybe it was his current restriction in mobility that drove him to even consider what he was going to do next. Maybe it was Kim Yongnam’s effective intimidation tactics via Zhang Yixing. Or maybe it was the precise nerve that Baekhyun had struck two nights prior. Maybe it was all three factors combined.

But it was Baekhyun’s that effected him the most. His words made him disconnect from whatever alternate reality he had been in. How had he allowed himself to get attached to anyone, let alone someone like Byun Baekhyun? All he had been doing up until now was abiding by Baekhyun’s rules and getting this job done for him. Yet the other hadn’t given him a rest— not physically nor emotionally since he had gotten here almost a month ago.

Chanyeol was tired of letting him have his way with him— of letting _any of them_ have their way. He was _done_.

His time off had allowed him to snap out of the daze Baekhyun’s words had put him in, and to properly reevaluate his situation as well as what exactly he could do to recover from it.

Chanyeol’s phone gave a short buzz from the coffee table in front of him.

**From Strike:**

I don’t know which dumbass contact of yours gave you this, but you should demand for half his pay back.

Chanyeol frowned.

He had consulted Strike— with whom he had no personal attachment— on his expertise on the situation and his intentions. 

**To Strike:**

dont tell me I lost my leverage

With a click of his tongue, he continued staring at his phone’s screen, waiting for Strike to finish typing his response.

**From Strike:**

Actually, no

**From Strike:**

It was inaccurate but more solid now

**From Strike:**

With the copy of the birth certificate I dug up for you, this could very well end both the Byuns and the Kims’ reign in the industry

**From Strike:**

It probably won’t affect their illicit dealings much but it’ll definitely undermine their influence as legitimate businessmen in Busan

That was the exact outcome Chanyeol wanted to achieve. It would serve as a reminder that an informant could do far more damage if he wanted to.

And if it meant the strings would be his to pull once more, he would do it.

**From Strike:**

It was actually Kim Yongnam who arranged for the car accident, not his son Minseok

Chanyeol frowned as he read through the messages. This was something that could potentially mean jail time for Yongnam. Did he want that?

**From Strike:**

I found the messages exchanged between him and the ones he hired to do it

**From Strike:**

I’ll send you everything you’ll need to make your story credible in a bit

He sighed as his thumb hovered over his phone’s keyboard, continuously flexing and extending in consideration.

Shaking his head, he typed out his response.

**To Strike:**

this kinda changes things

**To Strike:**

i was only going to use minseok as a warning for yongnam, i don’t want him to come after me straight away

Strike’s response came quickly, embellished with an unnecessary number of laughing emojis to relay his amusement with Chanyeol’s concern.

**From Strike:**

He can only arrange for so much from jail

Chanyeol rolled his eyes.

For all he knew, he might have already given his command to automatically shoot on sight had Chanyeol crossed a certain line such as this.

**From Strike:**

Weren’t you on the safe side with Yongnam anyway? You told me he only wanted to shut you up, not get rid of you

_Chanyeol_ was safe. Baekhyun wasn’t. But this wasn’t the time for him to put Baekhyun first, now was it?

He put his phone down and ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a long breath. He thought about this enough. He already weighed it all out in his head and went over this multiple times.

Baekhyun’s words should have been left unsaid but Chanyeol was relieved he let him onto the truth of how he felt about him. Because it gave Chanyeol the slap he needed to wake the fuck up and stop letting the Byun step all over him.

He still had the upper hand— he _had_ had it all along. What he didn’t have was the balls to go through with what he was only now determined to do.

It was something he needed to do to rid himself of those unrequited and dispensable feelings once and for all.

Chanyeol picked his phone back up and started typing out his response. It was tiring to type with one thumb, and as much as he tried to keep his replies short and to the point, there was so much he needed to say.

For the first time since he had known Strike, he hated him for his policy of no phone calls. 

**To Strike:**

i guess you can put it that way

**To Strike:**

how did you know about do kyungsoo in the first place? baekhyun made it sound like everyone who knew was forcibly silenced and removed

He doubted he could get an answer to that question, but it was worth a shot asking.

There were so many unusual things about how Strike worked, but Chanyeol was never curious enough to ask.

**From Strike:**

If I told you you wouldn’t need me here would you?

**From Strike:**

Now let me finish

Chanyeol locked his screen and placed his phone on the coffee table, then he lied back on the couch.

The past week had been hectic enough as it was. After that night with Baekhyun, he uncharacteristically shut down for an entire day.

He loathed how Baekhyun made him feel like a worthless, second-rate, quick fuck he only did because it was convenient for him. Because he was around anyway, so might as well. All in a single sentence.

As soon as he snapped out of it though, he came to the realisation that he was a renowned informant, for fuck’s sake, and with good reason.

If anyone should be running this game he was sucked into, it was him. He had an edge over all of them with information that could and _would_ cost them their reputations and status, and Chanyeol had been too easy on them. He let far too many things slide.

And he won’t be selling these pieces for the hefty amounts he would receive in return, rather for the satisfaction of watching them squirm and crumble; just as they had with him over the past month.

He would leave them fidgeting in distress as to what Park Chanyeol would do next.

So as he plotted and worked, he started packing his important belongings, as he knew what would come after he unleashed what he had been faithfully keeping to himself all this time.

**From Strike:**

Check your email

Chanyeol got up and walked to his desk, where his laptop had been sitting.

The email he wanted to send was typed and prepared. He just needed to attach a few files to prove his claims and he was set.

**From Strike:**

Do you know how long I’ve waited for the day you lost your temper and fucked these people over?

No. He was simply done being Yongnam and Baekhyun’s puppet.

He was done hiding from them and playing it safe.

Chanyeol opened up the email from Strike, and downloaded the attachments.

After reading through them, he attached the needed proof to his drafted email and saved it, holding out on sending it just yet.

He needed to wait for the right timing, after all.

**To Strike:**

i haven’t lost my temper

**To Strike:**

not yet at least

**To Strike:**

i’m just teaching them all a much needed lesson

——————

Perhaps the reason he chose this day to do it because it marked exactly a month’s time since he arrived in Busan.

He wanted it to be a departure no one would forget. He wanted for the chaos that would inescapably ensue to reflect on how this month had been for _him_. And with what he had prepared, it would.

Chanyeol already finalised everything he needed to pull this off the night before, and spent the rest of it packing all of his personal belongings— only the stuff he initially brought with him on this trip. He had already taken the extra measures of arranging for a trusted car service to take him back to Seoul, scheduled to pick him up later at night.

As soon as he woke up, he had taken a shower and gotten himself dressed, then sent out the email he drafted to a couple of the biggest news outlets in the country.

He continued scrolling through the articles, eyes gripped by the text on the bright screen of his phone. 

_Chairman Byun Yeonseok of the Byun Group’s illegitimate son, Do Kyungsoo [Vice President of the Byun Group],_ the headline read, with pictures of them both right below. The article contained all of the details he included in his email, about how Kyungsoo was born out of an affair Yeonseok had with his secretary shortly after his wife gave birth to Baekhyun. It also mentioned how Kyungsoo had been kept a secret and raised alongside Baekbeom and Baekhyun.

The informant could only wonder how and _why_ Baekhyun’s mother kept her mouth shut about it. It was none of his business, he concluded.

Chanyeol clicked out of that article and refreshed. He raised his brows as he found new articles of Kim Yongnam being taken into the custody of police for questioning sitting at the top of the page; the information _he_ gathered and provided were featured on this article as well. That Yongnam had been the mastermind behind his own brother’s death, and that Kim Jongin, his nephew, hadn’t made a statement about it as of yet.

Knowing Jongin, Chanyeol could speculate him feeling betrayed by his uncle, the very man he had shown unwavering loyalty to.

It also mentioned that Kim Minseok had already taken over upon the arrest, and that he had refused to comment on the matter. As far as Chanyeol knew from the hour he had shared a table with Minseok, he was probably happy about it— glad to keep his father’s seat warm, and was probably hoping it would stay his while his father rotted in jail.

Others highlighted the drop in stocks of both companies, some enraged shareholders and their complete loss of trust with the families running those businesses— and Chanyeol couldn’t help but laugh at that. Just like Strike said would happen.

He sighed as he locked his phone and glanced at the entrance of his _apartment._ He was growing somewhat impatient.

It had already been about an hour since the articles were made public, and Chanyeol had yet to hear anything from either side of the Kims or the Byuns. He guessed they would have already found out it was his doing by now, but seemed he overestimated them.

As if they had direct access to his thoughts, Chanyeol’s phone started ringing, and although it was a confrontation he had been prepared for, it wasn’t the phone call he had been expecting.

He wasted no time in answering, and the other wasted no time in relaying what he had to say.

_“Don’t speak until I’m finished,”_ Kyungsoo’s voice rang through the line.

Chanyeol raised a brow, somewhat impressed at the firm tone of his voice and his ability to stay composed despite the situation at hand.

_“You had no right to release that information. And while I_ am _angry and surprised, I must say it was quite the bold move considering Baekhyun is on his way to kill you like he probably promised he would,”_ Kyungsoo said. _“So I’d leave now if I were you.”_

While he appreciated the sudden warning, he wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he got a look at Baekhyun’s face to see if anything’s changed. Not until he had one last confirmation that it was okay to do this; that it was okay to toss all of this away in case the damage he had done was no longer salvageable.

“Why are you telling me this?” Chanyeol questioned.

_“Because there was talk between some board members anyway,”_ Kyungsoo said, letting out a sigh. _“So it doesn’t make a difference to me whether you went public with it or not considering it was already leaked to the people we were trying to keep it from the most,”_ he said.

So it was pointless?

Chanyeol’s tongue clicked.

_“Even though it didn’t go my way, I’m more relieved it didn’t go theirs. It could’ve been more of a mess if it did,”_ he told him.

He rubbed his temples then roughly ran his hand through his hair to push it back, resisting the urge to sigh too loudly.

“Well I’m glad I could be of some assistance,” Chanyeol said. “But if it was already leaked to them then why is Baekhyun on his way to kill _me?”_ he asked.

Chanyeol preferred his takedowns to be public, anyway. And Baekhyun knew that.

_“He thinks you sold it to them then screwed them over by selling it to news outlets and blowing it out of proportion,”_ Kyungsoo said.

“I _did_ sell it to the press but I assure you, I didn’t sell it to any of the board members,” Chanyeol said. “Kinda messed up my initial intentions.”

At least he was sure he would still get what he wanted out of this.

_“I believe you didn’t,”_ Kyungsoo said. _“His judgement’s a bit clouded right now, though._

“I could give a few guesses as to why,” Chanyeol said.

There were more things Baekhyun hated to lose control over than Chanyeol thought. None of that mattered anymore, though.

It was done.

“I’ll deal with him,” Chanyeol said, hesitating for a second before adding, “I’m sorry I had to do it this way, hyung.”

Kyungsoo snorted over the phone. _“Consider yourself lucky that our interests are aligned.”_

He hung up without saying goodbye, and Chanyeol couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He didn’t think he would get under Kyungsoo’s skin as much as he did.

Instead of putting his phone down and waiting quietly, he opened up the different security cameras at the front of the building and inside the halls.

Chanyeol would keep watch as he waited. He didn’t want his upcoming visitor’s arrival to take him by surprise.

——————

Chanyeol felt far too confident for someone who was about to have his eye sockets emptied out.

The silence in the apartment was cut by the occasional splashes of heavy rain against the floor to ceiling windows as he waited.

His phone kept vibrating and its lock screen lit up his immediate surroundings as missed calls from Junmyeon began to pile up. He didn’t have time for him at the moment— Baekhyun was a far too dangerous adversary for him to be sidetracked by anyone else at the moment, even if it _was_ Junmyeon.

Chanyeol didn’t even spare any thoughts as to what the other could have wanted from him. He was too laser focused on what was to come.

When he did this, he thought Baekhyun would just storm in, aim a gun to his head, and blow his brains out. He thought Baekhyun would simply fulfil what he promised Chanyeol he would do if the scandal somehow leaked.

Baekhyun meant every word he said that morning, and Chanyeol didn’t doubt him. Even through the panic, he was aware he couldn’t take those words lightly. And it wasn’t only because Baekhyun was dragging a knife across the bridge of his nose when he threatened him. 

That was why he had decided to play it safe the following weeks. That was why he held back a lot.

Because Byun Baekhyun was a dangerous man.

So the enraged, shivering man that suddenly swung his door open took him by surprise— even after Kyungsoo’s heads up.

The emotions Chanyeol held back from relieving himself of almost betrayed him; almost showed the other sympathy had he not reminded himself what this was for. _Why_ he did this— to spare himself and Baekhyun in a way.

He managed to remain indifferent when he looked at Baekhyun, barely flicking his eyes to Kyungsoo as he tailed closely behind. He wasn’t afraid.

Chanyeol wasn’t going to waver. Even if he _was_ witnessing a Baekhyun that was exposing himself wide open for Chanyeol to read for once. It felt as if each of them was in the other’s shoes for the first time.

As opposed to the intimidating, rough demeanour Baekhyun usually displayed, he looked angry and genuinely hurt— almost as if he was betrayed by his own humanity.

“You little piece of shit,” Baekhyun seethed. “Do you realise what you’ve done?”

Chanyeol was surprised that, although he looked it, he wasn’t angry enough to be shouting his lungs out.

This was the extent of emotions he had been hoping to get out of Baekhyun since they had met, and it irked him that _these_ were the lengths he had to go through to get them out. He was still satisfied with the results though, so a part of him enjoyed the sight somewhat, just as Baekhyun had done with him a week earlier.

“Of course I do,” Chanyeol responded.

“Then you’re either fucked in the head or you’re just suicidal,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol stared him in the eye silently.

He didn’t know to what extent, but he hoped it would do some damage to Baekhyun’s position at his father’s company, if not for a short lived victory.

In any case, the one whose reputation was truly at stake in this situation is Chairman Byun Yeonseok for what he did, and Baekhyun as president of the Byun Group. Kyungsoo’s was just collateral.

Yeonseok would be left picking up whatever pieces he could to save face, while Baekhyun would be left trying to charm majority shareholders and investors and trying to gain back their lost trust.

And that was what Chanyeol sought to do in the first place.

“Why’d you do it?” Baekhyun asked.

Because it was long overdue for him to get what he deserved.

A clap of thunder sounded outside as a flash of white washed over the living room, and Chanyeol was able to see Baekhyun’s face in a bit more detail that he wished he wouldn’t see.

His resolved wavered for a second, but as soon as Baekhyun spoke once more, it was back.

“Say something,” Baekhyun said.

“I just wanted to give you a taste of how it felt before I left for good,” Chanyeol finally spoke.

“What about Kyungsoo?”

“Baekhyun—” Kyungsoo tried to say.

“Did he deserve to be under fire for your personal vendetta against me?” Baekhyun asked. “After everything he’s done for you?”

With a fixed smirk on his lips, Chanyeol responded, “Kyungsoo’s gonna be fine. If anything he’s the victim here.”

The other nearly lunged at him, no doubt to wipe it off his face. “Are you fucki—”

“Baekhyun, enough,” Kyungsoo said, tugging at his arm. “I can speak for myself.”

He shrugged his arm off and moved to the side for Kyungsoo to walk farther in.

Kyungsoo seemed to be far more composed than anyone in his situation would be.

But it was understandable— with his father being the way that he was and Baekhyun taking it personally, Kyungsoo had to take it upon himself to be the glue that held everything together. He, once again, proved to be worthy of the responsibilities thrown at him.

“I’m actually glad the truth is out there. What I don’t appreciate is that I wasn’t consulted beforehand,” Kyungsoo said. “I also don’t appreciate the two of you placing me right in the middle of your silly little game.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go start cleaning up whatever is left of the company’s _and_ family’s integrity.”

Kyungsoo turned— but not before shooting one final glare in Chanyeol’s direction— then he disappeared into the hallway.

Chanyeol raised a brow. “There you have it,” he said.

“Shut up,” Baekhyun snarled. “You still had no right to do what you did.”

“Kyungsoo hyung’s situation is information I _paid_ to get so no, I had every right to do whatever the hell I wanted with it,” Chanyeol said.

“This is _exactly_ why I couldn’t trust you.”

And that was where Chanyeol’s only issue with Baekhyun lied. It never failed to hit a nerve whenever the other said those words.

He couldn’t understand why. Since he had gotten there— after realising his scare tactics wouldn’t work on the other— all he wanted was to gain Baekhyun’s trust and he had done his utmost to earn it.

For a brief moment last week, he thought he did. Who wouldn’t think it if they were in his position? Then Baekhyun took away his momentary victory and put him right back in his place.

It couldn’t have been because of his earlier antics. If it were, then Baekhyun wouldn’t have done any of those things with him. He wouldn’t have said those words to push him away like he did.

No, there was something else.

“You don’t trust me because you never _wanted_ to trust me,” Chanyeol said. “The only difference now is that I gave you a reason not to.”

All he did was justify Baekhyun’s reluctance.

It he wasn’t convinced enough already, he _was_ now. He didn’t have a reason to be here anymore.

Baekhyun hummed in agreement. “I really wanted to be wrong about you.”

Chanyeol didn’t buy that. Not anymore.

“Too bad then,” he said, shrugging. Then he turned around and grabbed the luggage that he had placed by the door.

He was done with Busan, the Byuns, the Kims; everything. At least until he figured out which one of them did his father dirty.

Chanyeol was done here. 

Baekhyun grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from the handle of his suitcase.

“You’re not going anywhere without my say Chanyeol,” he said menacingly.

Chanyeol snatched his arm back and took a couple of steps back.

“Or what?” he snapped. “You’ll sue me for _breach of contract?”_

Baekhyun had proved time and time again that he could never go through with killing Chanyeol. But watching him pull out a switchblade from his pocket, Chanyeol couldn’t rule out that he wouldn’t hurt him again.

“You’ll be wishing it were that simple when I’m done with you,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol stood his ground and said nothing. And his lack of reaction must have provoked Baekhyun even more, because before he knew it, Baekhyun had already knocked him down to the ground.

The next thing Chanyeol registered was pain searing through his left arm as he couldn’t fight back the agonising scream that came out of his throat.

He panted as he turned his head slightly to see that Baekhyun had dug the back of the blade in his healing wound, Baekhyun’s own blood dripping down as his palm pressed against the sharp side of the knife.

As Baekhyun twisted it a bit, Chanyeol’s tears started welling up at the sting he felt that arose from the motion.

“You worthless scumbag,” Baekhyun spat out, “I swear I should’ve killed you then and there.”

Chanyeol started squirming to shake Baekhyun off of him, until he looked back up to shoot him a glare as he grunted in pain.

The look in Baekhyun’s eyes froze him in place as he stared back.

The anger present on his face since he entered the apartment was gone, and it was now replaced with… hurt.

Baekhyun looked sad.

As he was met with that look, he felt an uncertainty tug at him, as if asking for his attention. Something didn’t feel right.

The same feeling from the morning after he and Baekhyun had sex for the first time clouded him, until Baekhyun’s eyes were replaced with his father’s panicked ones.

He had yelled at him to run back to his room that night, and he did. But Chanyeol’s curiosity still prompted him to peek through his door as all the commotion died down.

The creak his door made had brought unwanted attention to his presence, and even though he had retreated and locked it, it was still forced back opened.

Chanyeol remembered being greeted by a person a bit older than him, and he had a gentle look in his eyes— one that resembled _Baekhyun’s_. Chanyeol’s instincts at the time shouted at him to run; to get as far away from him as he could.

He remembered his body refusing to respond to him. Even as the other brought out a bloody blade. He was 12— he was old enough to make the connection that the person bent down in front of him had killed his father, and was there to kill _him_.

The next thing he recalled was his knees giving out as he succumbed to his fate. And just as the man leaned closer to him, slowly raising the hand that had a strong grip on the blade— his world turned black.

Chanyeol panted as he blinked repeatedly in an attempt to clear up his sight.

Baekhyun was still on top of him, wide-eyed— knife long since discarded. They stared at one another quietly as Chanyeol fought the dazed state he was in to piece things together.

He didn’t need to think for long, though. It was straightforward. It all made sense now.

This was the man who murdered his father. He was the one who scarred his face the first time.

Byun Baekhyun was the man he had been searching for. The same Byun Baekhyun he had caught feelings too deep for in the past month.

And Baekhyun knew this and still kept it from him all the while playing ignorant.

Maybe not though, as Baekhyun’s words from the day they had met echoed.

_“You might finally find those you’ve been searching for all this time.”_

He couldn’t believe it.

Nothing made sense in his head anymore.

Everything hurt, but he couldn’t understand _why—_ why did he feel like he was stabbed in the back by the one who was responsible for everything bad that had ever happened in his life? Not only was he the man who killed his father, he was also the one who took away any chance Chanyeol had of living a normal life.

The realisation tore him apart in an instant. And the hardened, determined expression on his face fell immediately after as he continued to desperately search Baekhyun’s eyes for answers he already had.

Baekhyun delicately traced his bloody finger across Chanyeol’s scar.

No wonder he had always felt some sort of attraction towards Baekhyun. No wonder those beautiful hands always gave him a sense of nostalgia— only now he knew it wasn’t exactly that.

Baekhyun’s fascination by his scar— why his eyes were always glued to it when his fingers weren’t touching it— it clicked. He was responsible for it. He was either admiring his creation the entire time or...

The other option was out of the question. It was a thought Chanyeol wouldn’t dare bring up again.

And seemed he was right to come up with such a decision with the way Baekhyun looked passive all of a sudden.

Chanyeol could still read the hurt in his eyes, just as he had since Baekhyun walked in. If he didn’t know any better, he would think it was sorrow Baekhyun was feeling. He would think this was Baekhyun’s way of apologising.

It was too late for that now though. For both of them.

Baekhyun was the one who looked away first as he finally got off of him. He stayed on the ground next to Chanyeol.

The informant used his good arm to push himself to sit up, his eyes fixated on the white marble tiles beneath his legs that had been smeared with Baekhyun’s blood. From the dampness he felt on his upper arm, it looked like it was mixed with his own blood as well.

When Chanyeol had initially set out to find the one who killed his father, his intentions were to get rid of them.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do anything to Baekhyun, despite the other hurting him on multiple occasions all the while threatening to do so much more.

There he was though, previously hell bent on murdering Chanyeol for selling Kyungsoo’s story to the press but also not going through with it.

So where did that leave them exactly?

Baekhyun cleared his throat. “I think it’d be best for you to just leave,” he said. “We’re only going to end up destroying one another if you stayed.”

And he was right.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol muttered.

Baekhyun sighed and stood up. “I’ll, uh—”

Chanyeol looked up at Baekhyun’s broad back when he paused.

“I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up in a bit and wire you the rest of what I owe you,” he said.

Even though Chanyeol was already set, he didn’t feel like speaking another word to Baekhyun.

Not that Baekhyun wanted to hear anything with the way he quickened his steps out of the apartment in silence.

At least he finally got his ticket out of Busan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's shorter than usual but hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!!


	10. Chapter 10

Chanyeol couldn’t kill him.

He didn’t think he had it in him if it were anyone besides Baekhyun, either.

And because of the shock taking its sweet time wearing off, he didn’t muster up the courage to ask Baekhyun why he had kept him alive and let him go that night over 10 years ago.

So why did he waste all this time trying to find his father’s murderer? Why did he waste all that time and effort tracking him down? Why did he risk his life on more than one occasion for a _name?_

It suddenly felt that it was unwise of him to have taken that job in the first place. Had he not, he would have still been oblivious as opposed to hurt, confused, defeated, and without a goal; since the only one he ever had was now meaningless.

All that determination to seek answers for questions he had since he was 12 was now replaced with regret.

Three days had passed since his arrival in Seoul, and he had been dormant.

He would wake up early, stay in bed until the sun hung high, then he would leave without making his bed.

By the time he would finally be out of his room, his normally functioning self would have done enough to call it a day. He would still drag himself to his kitchen, down two shots of espresso only to spend the rest of his day idly watching whatever was playing on TV.

That would only keep him awake and distracted for so long though. With his shutters down and his curtains closed, the only light illuminating his living room came from the television screen; and with his phones off, he couldn’t monitor time, as he could barely see the clock he had hung somewhere on one of the surrounding walls.

His mind was screaming at him that this was enough. That he had given himself enough time to brood over what happened. That he should start picking himself up and take a long deserved shower and eat a proper meal, that he should see someone about the damage Baekhyun had done to his healing gunshot wound.

It was his body that refused to listen, though. It felt as if there was a delay in response between the signals his brain was trying to send and his muscles. He couldn’t act upon his rational mind’s thinking.

How could he when it felt like everything he knew was stripped away from him after one triggered repressed memory that wasn’t even in full? He was certain there was more of it, but he got more than enough of it back than he needed.

Just enough to know that the person he chose to open up to, the person he showed sides of himself to that no one else had ever seen before, was the same person that almost killed him all those years back but couldn’t go through with it for whatever reason, and was the same person took everything away from him and turned him into what he was now.

Chanyeol laid out all his vulnerabilities to Baekhyun, he went against his better judgement and gave into temptations and developed _feelings_ that he was having a hard time getting rid of at the moment. And for what?

As much as he fought back with himself at the beginning and as unwilling as he was, he knew that he had changed since he got to know Baekhyun. Because if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be out of work on his couch chugging down his seventh can of beer because of the damage inflicted on him _emotionally_ by another human being.

This was _completely_ unlike Chanyeol. And he couldn’t help but wonder if he had as much impact on Baekhyun as the other did on him. Because up until the end, Baekhyun remained apathetic— at least on the outside. It bugged Chanyeol to know that he would never find out what went on beneath his hard shell now.

For all he knew, Baekhyun didn’t seem to care about him much.

Chanyeol chuckled as he tossed his empty can onto the coffee table in front of him, watching it roll forwards until it fell and continued rolling till it hit the wall behind the TV unit.

Between dwelling over how it ended with Baekhyun and his failed attempts to pull himself out of the detached state he was in, he had plenty of time to think about the type of person his father was and the life he led.

It was only natural for an information broker to have some type of run-in with gang members, so it wasn’t exactly uncommon for one to be involved with the mafia. How he ended up because of it was more than likely on him for not being careful when dealing with them.

Chanyeol still didn’t have any of the details, and with Yongnam now behind bars with a possible life-long sentence, he was presumably free to do as he pleased. Chanyeol wasn’t naive, though. It was only a matter of time until Yongnam sent someone his way.

As he was now, he was easy pickings for the Kim. He might as well pull his shutters back up and unlock access to his place— get rid of all the hurdles for them and minimise destruction to his penthouse upon entry.

The informant shook his head and let out a sharp breath as he sat up straight. He wasn’t being fair to all the hard work he had put into this over the past six years. But even as he was aware of it, he couldn’t get into the right mindset to continue searching for the truth behind what happened that night.

He didn’t want to stoop to asking Baekhyun for the details— and he wouldn’t, even if it took him 10 more years to know exactly what had occurred the night Baekhyun killed his father then failed to do the same to him. He would rather place his bets on the remainder of his memory miraculously being triggered than seeking the Byun again.

So he would have to throw away the idea of ever learning _why_ Baekhyun left him behind that night to roam freely after seeing his face. That was what he was having trouble letting go of the most.

Although _that_ was also what he was hoping to gain the most out of finding the perpetrator after seeking revenge, there was plenty of related investigations he could focus his energy on to make up for the lack of answers he got out of all this.

Like the odds of him choosing the same career path as his father without knowing anything.

For one, he didn’t choose it himself. Rather he only gave it a thought and decided to go for it after Strike suggested it to him. Chanyeol remembered confiding in him a lot at the beginning— how it was _him_ who basically held his hand through his search for his father’s murderer.

At one point, Strike suggested information brokering to him, and he offered to give him access to different databases and confidential information that was otherwise difficult for a regular civilian to obtain. He taught him how to get the job done, and went out of his way to introduce him to several of his trusted contacts that he would grow to rely on over the years.

Chanyeol furrowed his brows as his mind processed those memories. Thinking about it now, Strike sure knew a lot for someone who claimed they had no idea what they were doing.

Almost as if it was intentional.

But how was Chanyeol supposed to have known any better? He was barely 15, barely over the trauma brought upon him by his father’s murder. And although he wasn’t raised by his father and didn’t get to spend that much time with him in the first place, it remained a horrible experience.

From what he knew, his parents divorced shortly after he was born, and his mother took him back to her parents’ house. He was pretty young when she died, so he remembered very little of the time he spent with her. So even though his grandparents were the only ones he had growing up, he still had somewhat of a relationship with his father. He couldn’t have possibly recovered from his death at the time, and as a consequence, he was susceptible to anything to say the least.

Another thing that raised questions was Kyungsoo’s situation leaking to the board at the Byun Group headquarters because as far as Chanyeol knew, Strike was the only person that lived long enough to tell the tale. He couldn’t think of anyone else who might have disclosed it to them.

Baekhyun seemed frustrated regarding the board their last proper night together. If it had been about the leak at the time, he didn’t seem to suspect it was Chanyeol’s doing. Not one bit. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have slept together following Baekhyun’s arrival.

For it to have been made public via another source, Baekhyun could easily make the connection that it was Chanyeol’s doing. Yet he wasn’t as angry as he betrayed he would have been— otherwise he would have shot Chanyeol on the spot.

If Chanyeol hadn’t known any better, it was almost as if Strike did it to save him from Baekhyun’s wrath. So what exactly were his real intentions?

Chanyeol stood up and stretched his painfully stiff body after having sat there through three movies and around two drama episodes.

With the TV light as his guide, he walked up to the control panel to pull his shutters up.

He stood in front of the window and watched the view below unfold in front of him, city lights seeping through the slowly raising crack and casting light upon the other end of his living room. He slowly blinked as he took it all in.

Could Strike really have done it all on purpose? He seemed to know everyone and everything anyway. Chanyeol wasn’t sure where he was based, but he doubted it was anywhere specific. It was too much to be coincidence. It felt like the answer was clearly written right in front of him, that he would just have to rearrange and link everything himself to get it.

In any case, he was beyond the point where a revelation like Strike being behind everything would come as a surprise to him.

The only thing left for him to do was to figure out who the hell the man behind that screen was.

——————

_No one wanted to be friends with someone they believed would get them killed._

_It was fairly late at night, and Chanyeol had just finished up at the academy after school._

_He took his shoes off at the entrance of the house and took his coat off, hanging it in its designated closet near the door as quietly as he could as to not wake his grandparents up._

_Feeling his way through the hall to make his way upstairs, he was guided only by the one kitchen light that shone on the table, where he could see his portion of dinner set up and covered, except as good as he knew his grandmother’s cooking was, it didn’t look appetising thanks to the 10 minutes he spent downing the piping hot plastic bowl of cheese-tteok noodles in the convenience store just outside the after-school academy._

_Chanyeol could usually tough it up and endure the half an hour train trip back home, but he felt like he was going to end up collapsed on the side of the road if he didn’t fill the void in his stomach with something._

_Those long extra hours he could be spending doing other things— one being a proper lunch_ and _dinner— as well as the tuition fees his grandparents paid out of his father’s inheritance for the academy weren’t worth it. He didn’t even need those extra lessons, although in a way, they did serve as a proper distraction from reality. He also did it for his grandparents, because after what had happened three years prior, they only wanted the best life for him._

_In other words, they didn’t want him to end up like his father._

_He had overheard his grandfather talking with the detective in charge of his father’s open case. How there wasn’t any progress whatsoever, and how he doubted there would be any. Even Chanyeol knew the case had long since ran cold._

_The only hope they ever had at finding those criminals was Chanyeol, seeing as he_ had _seen their faces, and since they carefully and precisely covered all their tracks. But after few sessions with a psychologist in hopes to help him remember and a couple of panic attacks later, his grandparents opted him out. Chanyeol couldn’t handle it and neither could they._

_He still couldn’t remember a thing from his visit to his father’s place that night before he regained consciousness in an ambulance._

_Chanyeol walked closer to the dining table, and put away his food instead of leaving it to go bad overnight and create an unnecessary mess for his grandmother to take care of in the morning._

_After he finished cleaning, he changed and washed up before retreating to his bedroom._

_It was way past midnight by the time he finally got to plop himself down in front of his desk. He typed in his laptop’s password and immediately opened up his browser and messages._

_Because everyone in his class was afraid of him, it was impossible for him to make friends. And any friends he had before the incident three years ago were driven away after. So the situation was completely out of his hands. He assumed his grandparents understood that since they had stopped trying to pluck him away from the computer and_ talking to “psychopathic, middle aged pedophiles online that had every intention to kidnap, rape, and kill him.”

_Even though he wasn’t sure who this person he was constantly talking to was; he wasn’t sure whether he was a psychopath or a serial killer, and he definitely wasn’t sure whether he was a pedophile or not— Strike was still the only person he could talk to comfortably._

_Yet again maybe those were the exact tactics those strangers his grandmother always warned him of used; to make vulnerable teenagers like him comfortable enough to open up about all sorts of things until they got everything they wanted to_ make their move _or to accomplish whatever their intentions were._

_Chanyeol would never know, but he also wasn’t stupid._

_Besides, what harm could come from befriending someone he had met through a multiplayer game and joined forces with on multiple occasions? And it wasn’t like they dived straight into the deep end. Although he felt shady at first, talking to Strike was easy._

_He exchanged IDs with him and started talking to him outside of the game’s chatroom feature about a year and a half ago._

_Their friendship was rather gradual. He still was reluctant to call what he had with someone he only knew the nickname and the gender of a_ friendship _, but to label it as such was the only thing that made sense to Chanyeol at the time._

_Chanyeol pulled up his chat with Strike when he noted there was an unread message from when he was still at school._

**_From Strike:_ **

_Did you bring it up with your grandpa?_

_How was he supposed to bring up a conversation he wasn’t even supposed to know of? His grandfather thought he was going through lengths to get out of his hearing range when he left the house, only he missed the memo that sound travels well from_ all _directions, meaning he can still hear him just fine— if not more clear— from his second floor bedroom window._

**_To Strike:_ **

_not yet_

_The last time he had brought it up with his grandfather, he had told him that the case was progressing well, then he tried distracting him with a thing that happened at work regarding one of his clients that day. He couldn’t have been more transparent with not wanting Chanyeol to press on the matter. So Chanyeol dropped it then and there._

_Only he wished it could have been as easy as that in his head._

**_To Strike:_ **

_anyway i’m sure what few evidence they claimed to have at the beginning led them in circles so i doubt they’re actually making any progress like he told me_

_Chanyeol sighed as he brought his hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose._

_He could see his grandfather trying hard over the years, but what was the point in all the extra effort he was putting and the headaches he was enduring if the investigators weren’t doing the job?_

_All because he could probably see how the entire thing wore Chanyeol down. If he could do it himself, he would; because it was getting out of hand._

**_From Strike:_ **

_The justice system proves useless once again_

**_From Strike:_ **

_Sorry to hear bud_

_Except that might not have been the case there. Chanyeol was more than certain there was more to this than just some random breaking and entering and homicide._

_He pealed his hand away from his face and brought it down with the other to type out his reply._

**_To Strike:_ **

_eh it doesn't really matter anymore_

**_To Strike:_ **

_i'll just die without ever learning_

_There was definitely more to this. Chanyeol might have developed an unhealthy obsession with seeking answers and the idea of vengeance— but unfortunately his hands were tied._

**_From Strike:_ **

_If It’s bothering you that much then why don’t you start up your own investigation?_

**_From Strike:_ **

_Maybe you’ll even regain some of your memories from that night_

_Chanyeol raised a brow as he typed his response._

**_To Strike:_ **

_and how do you suggest i do that?_

**_To Strike:_ **

_i wouldn’t even know where to begin_

_He didn’t have the resources to and doubted he would even know how to use any piece of information to get what he wanted._

**_From Strike:_ **

_I mean I saw a movie where a man built himself a network of connections with people who know things_

**_From Strike:_ **

_Those people always know more than the police_

**_From Strike:_ **

_Of course their services are expensive_

**_From Strike:_ **

_You can hire one_

**_From Strike:_ **

_Better yet, you could do what they do_

_Chanyeol leaned back on his chair. There was a possibility this could work, right?_

_Still seemed too unrealistic to pull off._

_——————_

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a dark entryway that automatically lit up as he stepped in.

For the first time in about a week, the shut curtains weren’t the reason behind the absence of light in Chanyeol’s apartment.

Having been out nearly the entire day— from getting the faded, rustic red and growing roots of his hair retouched, to seeing a doctor about his gunshot wound and getting the splint holding his left arm in place removed; of course the transportation from one place to another took a lot longer than he expected— so he couldn’t exactly be home on time to switch on the lights as it gradually got dark outside.

With all these changes he finally got off his ass to make, the confidence he lost had found its way back, and with it came the resolve to get shit done again.

At that moment, it seemed some important questions _could_ be answered as soon as he found whoever it was that went by the nickname Strike. All he had to do was find out who the hell he had been speaking to and confiding in all these years.

having known him for this long, Chanyeol knew him well enough to know it wouldn’t be easy. He knew it wouldn’t be as simple as asking here and there and gathering information.

Strike was a hacker, after all. If anyone knew how to keep their identity completely hidden, it would be him.

Besides— for all he knew, he was probably the only person that knew him as _Strike._ The chances of him going by different nicknames to others were high.

With all that in mind, Chanyeol deemed it impossible to go about this the hard way, and he definitely didn’t want to waste any time going in a loop searching for Strike’s identity.

Chanyeol yawned as he dumped his bag of fresh groceries on a kitchen counter, then strode to his living room to switch on the lamp on the side table between his sofas and the one on his computer desk. After a week of living off the television light he preferred to keep the brightness at a minimum.

He then retreated to his room for a quick change of clothes, relieved at his newfound freedom and regained ability to move his left arm for the first time in three weeks, even if it _was_ limited. It still felt good to be able to use his left hand again, at the very least.

Once he was done and back in the living room, he grabbed his phone and sent a message to Strike.

**To Strike:**

who are you really?

Short, simple, and straight to the point.

Chanyeol dropped his phone back on the coffee table and turned the TV on, keeping it as background noise as he went back into the kitchen and got started on his dinner.

Whatever response he was going to get from Strike would have to wait until after his stomach was filled.

It was still a bit strenuous with the slightly hindered mobility of his left arm, and he barely avoided several incidents whenever the vegetable slipped from underneath the loose grip of his left hand, but he somehow managed.

Throughout, he tried to drown out his thoughts with the cheesy dialogue of the drama that had been airing on the channel he had on. It could only do so much, though.

He couldn’t help but fabricate a few scenarios of what Strike’s response would be and what he would do and say to counter it.

Another part of him felt like Strike wouldn’t reply at all, that he would cower behind his own computer screen.

He would know soon enough though. After he was done eating.

It had been _weeks_ since he had last had a properly cooked homemade meal. He was left with a satisfied feeling of wanting to eat more of his own cooking.

After eating, he carried his plate back to the kitchen and cleaned up there, all the while his mind was occupied predicting one outcome after the other. And only when he finished his mundane task did he sit himself back down to check his phone.

He had a single message awaiting him— the notification must have been stifled by ingredients hitting hot oil or the dishes clinking.

Strike had responded, but no words were said and no questioned were asked in return. In the same manner that Chanyeol had placed his question earlier, Strike answered with a phone number.

The informant was confused at first glance, then he recovered just enough to tap on the number— only to be taken aback entirely seeing as he already had that phone number saved.

Under _Kim Jongdae,_ no less.

Either Strike was being misleading, or it meant exactly what it implied.

That Strike was none other than Kim Jongdae.

Chanyeol didn’t even know where to start if Strike— _Jongdae,_ meant for him to call. Having delayed the inevitable long enough, he made up his mind.

With his shaky thumb, he dialled the number and waited through the beeps until Kim Jongdae’s familiar voice resonated from the other end of the line.

_“It’s quite unlike you to not even try digging around before resorting to asking directly,”_ Jongdae said.

Chanyeol swallowed thickly. So it _was_ him.

“I’ve learned from my mistakes,” said Chanyeol. “I couldn’t have possibly found anything on you either way.”

Jongdae chuckled. _“That’s right!”_ he exclaimed.

Chanyeol waited for the other to simmer down and for him to stop finding whatever it was he found amusing… well, _amusing._

Once he had quieted down and taken a few deep breaths to compose himself, Chanyeol spoke the first thing that came to his mind.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked.

_“I’m afraid you’re going to need to be more specific, Mr. Informant,”_ Jongdae said, tongue dripping in pleasure for reasons Chanyeol could only guess.

He suppressed the impulse to sigh. “You’re the one who suggested information brokering to me back then,” Chanyeol stated. “Why?”

_“Hmmm, weren’t_ you _the one who wanted to find your father’s murderer?”_ Jongdae asked. _“How you couldn’t leave this up to the police anymore?”_

Chanyeol pinched the bridge of his nose, running a nail over his— once again— healing scar, and he let out a soft sigh. He should have known Jongdae would be technical and evasive in a long overdue confrontation between them.

_“So I did just that,”_ Jongdae continued. _“I gave you a solution, and I gave you everything you needed for an easy ascend to the top.”_

_“Hell, I even got you_ sponsored _by the one and only Kim Junmyeon.”_

Chanyeol’s other hand dropped down from his face and his eyes widened.

“He was in on this?”

Jongdae clicked his tongue repeatedly. _“No, no, no,”_ he said. _“All I did was give_ you _the boost you needed to be on_ his _radar. I left the rest to the two of you, and it somehow worked out better than I expected it to.”_

Chanyeol’s brows furrowed. “But why go through such lengths?” he asked.

_“I didn’t go through any lengths to get what I wanted,”_ Jongdae responded.

“What _did_ you want?” Chanyeol pressed on.

_“For an information broker, you’re painfully clueless, you know,”_ Jongdae said. _“If I must spell it out for you, I only wanted to see this mess unfold.”_

Chanyeol _hated_ how often he heard that coming from Baekhyun. His eyes narrowed and in a tight-lipped rage, he took a few moments to think before responding to the other.

If by _mess_ he meant what he _thought_ would happen once Chanyeol found the one who stabbed his father to death, then there was nothing for him to see. It was over. _Done._

Whatever twisted fantasy Jongdae had while practically orchestrating this for the past six years was done.

“You can forget about that now,” Chanyeol said. “I’m not going to do anything about Byun Baekhyun and I’m staying out of his and everyone else’s business from now on.”

Jongdae chuckled. _“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Mr. Informant.”_

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol asked.

_“You’ll find out soon enough.”_

Then all Chanyeol heard was three beeps and complete silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> strike's identity is revealed!! 👀   
> genuinely forgot how i came up with the nickname but it had something to do with the meaning of jd's name kjhkjk i'll search through my notes cause i know it's somewhere there TT  
> things are starting to simmer down a bit but for how much longer? |_・)  
> hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! ♡


	11. Chapter 11

Chanyeol sent out messages and emails to his usual clients, informing them of his reopening before going to bed.

Since he was well-liked and respected in Seoul, it didn’t come to him as a surprise when he woke up to an overflown inbox and too many notifications on his work phone than he could handle that early in the day.

He spent his morning categorising a list of requests based on urgency and importance, with a job from the inspector he usually dealt with from the KNP sitting on top.

They worked really fast in Seoul— it was no wonder the city’s crime rate was as low as it was. He was given a rather demanding job this time around. To gather enough information required to build a profile on a new stock company owner as well as his employees.

It was just what he needed as a distraction right now. Something to help him move on from the only two things he had ever developed emotional attachment to.

As something to work on on the side just in case he got tired of that particular job, he took on a few other mundane ones to do. Just enough to carry out at once to keep himself busy without overexerting himself.

Chanyeol had an early start to his day, so it was only in the afternoon when his body called for his second cup of coffee. It was perfect timing too, as he would have a fresh one to officially get started on the job he accepted to do for the inspector. 

He poured boiling water into his French press filled with ground coffee then put the lid on. Without pushing the plunger down, he carefully carried the press and his cup back to his desk and set them on the side. He made himself comfortable on his swivel chair as he waited it out.

With his laptop on and the necessary tabs pulled up on the side, he faced his desktop in front of him and prepared everything he needed to work on this until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

This would be his life from now on. He planned on overworking himself until he could forget about it all. It wasn’t healthy and it definitely wasn’t the right way to deal with things, but this was what had worked for him over the past couple of days and he hoped would continue to work for him for the rest of his life.

It would be difficult, but he would try his best. He had to.

He had already established that there wasn’t anything he _wanted_ to do about Baekhyun, so he had no other choice but to live with it even if it _did_ bother him.

And although he had no idea what Jongdae meant by what he said, he was adamant about brushing it off. He had long since had it with the cryptic messages. After everything he had gone through, he didn’t have it in him to endure that shit anymore.

So he didn’t care enough to learn of the rest of Jongdae’s intentions and what his purpose for doing what he did was.

He made up his mind to move forward— he was going to focus on taking his business back to the way it was before. Ordinary, and away from organised crime.

And if ordinary meant that he would help locate missing children, digging into some lady’s husband’s bank account statements to know where their savings went, and to help the management of a big time CEO investigate possible new employees: he would gladly take more of those repetitive tasks, one after the other— until they stuck to him like a habit.

Chanyeol doubted he would run out of those requests anytime soon, as his inbox kept notifying him of new ones every now and then. He was pretty sure he had stacked enough to keep him busy for _months._

He was confident most of them would rather wait for him to free himself up for their turn instead of seeking someone else, too. Because it had happened plenty of times before.

It wasn’t just his job that could keep him occupied. As he scrolled through his personal inbox, he received a notification for an email that sat at the very top from his university, notifying him of his upcoming examinations.

With how hectic the past month had been, he nearly forgot that he was still a university student— thankful that, since attendance wasn’t mandatory, nobody bothered to ask why he hadn’t shown up to any of his lectures for the past month.

The email containing his exam timetable came to him as a reminder, as well as another thing to keep him too busy to think about Baekhyun and how catching feelings for him was his biggest mistake. How those feelings coerced him to throw away what his life had been leading up to for 10 years. How the moment he thought would be the pinnacle of his career as an information broker was reduced to a moment of weakness. How he let Byun Baekhyun go without properly confronting him about killing his father.

Chanyeol shook his head and opened the email, looking through its contents. He saved his exams timetable then he closed the tab, focusing back on the work he initially sat down to do.

He pushed down the French press’s plunge then poured his coffee into his cup and wrapped his fingers around the handle, bringing his cup with him as he stood up and walked to the window behind him.

Despite it being early in the day, the sun was nowhere to be seen; concealed by dark clouds which forced the majority of pedestrians to immediately whip out their umbrellas and others who weren’t to temporarily seek shelter at nearby cafés and shops. The traffic was getting worse at the influx of the taxis that rolled by to pick up those who wanted an easy escape from the rain.

Although it was practically dark with what could have been an approach of a storm, all street lights were on, providing the much needed illumination to the city below.

Chanyeol brought his cup closer to his lips and took a sip. Then he let out a long breath.

With one last look to the view below, he turned around and sat back on his chair.

——————

Oddly enough given his current circumstances, Chanyeol still found the familiar peace of mind he did whenever he was in public.

It was only across the street from his building, but it gave him some much needed time out of his apartment and away from his computer. This wasn’t to say he hated his job— on the contrary, he loved every part of it. But he was bound to have a life and interests outside of it, wasn’t he?

Chanyeol adjusted his noise cancelling earbuds as he tapped on them to enable the option of catching the ambiance of the café better than his ears ever would. He needed to be discreet about his intentions.

He took his laptop and notebook and set them up on the table in front of him, while he kept an eye on the buzzer that would notify him of his order being ready to pick up at the counter.

It wasn’t crowded but it wasn’t empty either. It was just the right amount and variety of people for him to watch and listen to.

Even though it somehow made a part of his job easier, it was still something he loved to do.

He didn’t call it spying— that term made him sound like a creep. He was merely pretending to study for his upcoming exams all the while he observed and _actually_ studied natural human behaviour, keeping mental notes of different body languages and patterns of speech. Maybe it wasn’t _that_ irrelevant to some of his classes in the school of psychology.

Since he spent most of his time with people much older than he was, he felt embarrassed to admit that this was where he picked up slang words people his age often used. Perhaps not today, though. Not with this variety of people, at least.

From what he gathered so far, the pair of women seated two tables to his right were old high school friends who haven’t met in a while catching up— they had a little banter at the counter over who would pay for their drinks earlier and through that alone, they might not have been close enough to have planned this particular get-together. From how each of them were dressed, it looked like they ran into each other going in the café, as one looked like she was on her lunch break while the other’s shopping bags indicated she had likely been walking back from the mall 10 minutes away by foot.

The table closest to his left was occupied by a man and a woman seated across from one another. They seemed to be discussing some sort of interior floor plan for his house. But the way he kept leaning closer to the table while she leaned away from it as well as the way he kept joking around and laughing while she kept her responses curt spoke volumes on what went on beneath the surface.

His coaster buzzer started vibrating as he looked up at the counter to find that his order was just placed on it. He stood up and walked to retrieve his tray, thanking the barista before walking back to his table.

Not before he took closer looks at the tables he had to pass by to get there and back.

Across from him was another student who seemed a bit too focused on their task at hand, and the last costumer was a mother and her stroller. From the sound of it, the baby was asleep. Otherwise, the mother wouldn’t have been peacefully sipping at her glass of iced americano while her eyes remained glued to the book she had been reading. She was focused enough to the point that she wouldn’t even spare a second to any distracting sound around her.

It may have been utterly boring and rather unlikely for a man with a healing gunshot wound on his arm. Someone who had been, just a _week_ prior, dealing with the most prominent and horrifying mafia bosses and businessmen in Busan.

Chanyeol didn’t care, though. It was exactly what he needed to serve as a distraction. Especially since he was still hurt by what happened with Baekhyun.

His thoughts travelled back to that night and the hurt in Baekhyun’s face far too often in the past week than he’d liked to admit. He thought maybe being away from his apartment and work that tied him to Baekhyun in the first place would clear his mind. It wasn’t exactly working.

That, and he needed some time to think about Jongdae’s words. As much as he wanted to ignore the hacker and move on, he couldn’t untie the knot that had only grown more tight since their phone call two nights ago. He dreaded the possible meaning behind those words.

He already knew of the possibility of the ordeal he got himself tangled in back in Busan would follow him to Seoul. It was only a matter of time for it to. Especially since Kim Yongnam probably had people working hard to trace those emails Chanyeol sent to different news outlets back to _him_. And after that, he was fucked.

The thing was, they weren’t speaking about Yongnam when Jongdae got all mysterious and left him hanging on a cliff. They were talking about _Baekhyun_.

And with the way things ended with Baekhyun, Chanyeol was certain that was it— that there wouldn’t be anymore interaction between the two of them. Not for a while, at least; not until either of their prides have recovered. Which would probably take months if not years.

One way or another, things always led back to Baekhyun. The way he never got this caught up with his thoughts and feelings for anyone else— not even _Junmyeon—_ it just served as further confirmation that he was in too deep for the Byun and how difficult getting over this would be.

Chanyeol shook his head. No more.

No more Byun Baekhyun.

He brought his focus back on his surroundings. He got far too absorbed in his train of thoughts to notice that the two women as well as the mother and her baby were already gone.

So much for observing people. He sighed. Might as well actually go through the material on his book at this point.

Not that he needed to— he was confident he would do well without so much as a glance at his book.

Still, it didn’t hurt to pretend to be a normal 22 year old for a bit.

——————

Over the following couple of days, that unsettling feeling at the pit of Chanyeol’s stomach made a home for itself there.

Despite finally getting the answers to the questions at the top of his list, he still felt agitated. He just couldn’t pinpoint the reason for it.

Chanyeol had somewhat of a progress meeting with the inspector coming up, so he was expecting him in the following hour’s time frame. He spent his morning setting up his office for his client’s arrival, and figured he would lounge around and browse through his various SNS accounts since he had some time to spare.

He kept alternating between working on completing those profiles for his incoming visitor, and reading through his university textbooks, more just so he knew what to expect when going into examination halls seeing as he was already familiar with the content. He made sure to keep them neatly stacked on his desk for the inspector’s eyes when he got here. After all, he _had_ asked the inspector to be patient with him in his delivery, using the old _busy with exams_ excuse.

In reality, all his university work did was help keep his mind occupied when he wasn’t in the mood to work. Because whenever he had a few seconds to spare, thoughts about him resurfaced.

Still didn’t keep Baekhyun from crossing his mind every couple of hours as opposed to the previous couple of minutes, and it was slowly replacing those horrible last few moments and revelations with the fond ones— past that morning Baekhyun gave him a panic attack inducing experience.

He still felt a great load of disappointment with the way things turned out. Mostly because he had finally come around to admitting the feelings he had for Baekhyun and the extent at which they weighed on him, only for Baekhyun to turn out to be entirely different than he had expected.

Chanyeol grew attached to him despite all his flaws, despite the way he was treated at the beginning, despite how hard Baekhyun tried to prove to Chanyeol that he meant little to nothing to him, and despite the trust issues that he felt the need to remind Chanyeol of every once in a while.

But murdering his father and keeping it from him despite knowing he was searching for the one who did it? That wasn’t crossing the line— that was taking a leap beyond the line. And even though a dumb part of Chanyeol was fighting back a bit, he had to let his feelings go.

The thing was, each time Chanyeol thought he had Baekhyun figured out, he would do the opposite. Maybe that was what Chanyeol was so anxious about— because what if this was one of those times?

If technicality were to be taken into consideration here, Baekhyun never said word for word that he was the one who killed his father. All he did was silently accept what he somehow knew Chanyeol caught on to, and then he let him go altogether regardless of being so resolute on keeping Chanyeol at arm’s length moments before.

The entire situation was too abrupt.

One moment he was telling him he wasn’t going anywhere, and the next he was exiling him back to Seoul.

Chanyeol didn’t even get the chance to tell him to watch out for Yixing seeing as he was the mole Baekhyun was itching to get his hands on. How was it any fair to leave him that way?

Yes, Baekhyun had kept what happened 10 years ago from him— but as someone who lived in the dark for that long, he wouldn’t wish such distress on the worst of his enemies. Including the man who killed his father and especially since he was someone he still felt something towards— in a very twisted turn of events.

During his last peaceful moment with the Byun nearly three weeks ago, he spoke affectionately of his late brother. Chanyeol didn’t think much of it at the time because he had other matters to discuss with the other— but if he didn’t know any better and if he hadn’t broken Baekhyun enough for _some_ of his emotions to finally seep through the cracks of his rock hard exterior; he _never_ would have guessed that Baekhyun might have been hurting too.

The way his voice took a soft, warm tone when he brought up memories that were clearly dear to him, indicated by the barely visible smile that tugged an edge of his lips, bringing the mole he had in that corner into view; it brought about a moment of vulnerability that Chanyeol shouldn’t have doubted at the time. Because if he hadn’t, maybe things would have turned out differently.

Because he would have noticed that there was more to Baekhyun than the expensive business suits and high end jewellery, the cold look in his droopy eyes and constant straight line of his lips that Chanyeol thought to be permanent, his drive to find the rats in the midst of his organisation and the graphic description he once gave of what he planned on doing with them once he found them, the threatening and borderline dangerous aura he exuded that almost kept Chanyeol away; his consistent consumption of alcohol and his inability to function without it, and his rather kinky displays of affection.

He would have realised that beneath all of that, Baekhyun probably only wanted the same thing Chanyeol wanted. He, better than anyone, would know the exact way Baekhyun must have been feeling to want to seek revenge for the unjust murder of his brother, who had nothing but good intentions. Just as Chanyeol had with his father.

The way Baekhyun’s emotions shifted from hurt and betrayed, to _fear,_ and finally defeat after Chanyeol’s sudden memory trigger and realisation of what Baekhyun had done, told him a different story. And a part of him still wanted to cling onto the idea that he wasn’t the one who killed his father.

Baekhyun was far too young at the time— around 18 if Chanyeol’s quick math skills were anything to rely on— to have had the upper hand on a grown, experienced adult. Even if Baekhyun _had_ undergone special training at a young age. That was the only reason Chanyeol had to have any doubts, but he still couldn’t fully go by a gut feeling. He wouldn’t do that to himself again.

Should he still give Baekhyun some closure? Maybe then he would move on without feeling like something was holding him and keeping him anchored where he was knocked on the ground with Baekhyun bent on top of him, having just retrieved the knife he dug the dull end of in Chanyeol’s healing gunshot wound.

Maybe then he would be able to live his life normally again, without an ounce of remorse.He could even leave all of this behind and move from the city— no, move away from the country entirely and live his life away from the mess this career path had brought onto him, as much as he enjoyed what he did. After all, he had enough money to last him a proper lifetime so long as he paced himself with his spendings.

He didn’t know— he never made any plans beyond finding the one who killed his father. He never thought of the possibility of coming out of that quest alive in the first place, that was why this new, unpredictable turn of events disoriented him.

Chanyeol was startled by his personal phone’s generic ringtone and was instantly pulled out of his thoughts.

A look at the name that flashed on his screen had him answering quicker than he ever had.

He brought the phone closer to his ears and spoke. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you for a while.”

The soft sigh of a voice that felt closest to home resonated across. _“Don’t be dramatic,”_ Junmyeon said. _“How have you been? Are you getting proper treatment for your wound?”_

He was concerned, and Chanyeol appreciated it coming from the one person he trusted and was comfortable enough to lean on at a time like this.

“I have,” Chanyeol simply said.

_“That’s good.”_

He stood up and walked behind his desk, taking a seat on his swivel chair.

Just like that, a silence settled, weighed by their last exchange of words back in Busan.

It was more than likely that it would remain unaddressed by either of them, because just as Chanyeol thought he had every right to do what he did that night, Junmyeon thought the same on his end.

Like every other time, they would both quietly agree that the other was wrong and leave it at that. No explanations or apologies needed.

While it wasn’t ideal for normal people, it was imperfectly perfect for people like them. And that was what made his relationship with Junmyeon so comfortable.

Chanyeol tucked a leg under his thigh, while his other foot shoved the floor beneath him once then he brought it up, watching as the world slowly spiralled around him a few times until it came to a halt as he faced the window.

He was about to take another spin when the other cleared his throat.

Junmyeon was first to cut the three-minute long silence— Chanyeol checked his phone for the time that had passed since the other called.

_“I called to warn you about my uncle,”_ he said. _“Just because he’s behind bars, doesn’t mean he can’t find out it was you.”_

Chanyeol planted both his feet on the ground and turned his chair until he was facing his desk again, eyes locking on his top desk drawer at the mention of Yongnam.

He had been back for 10 entire days and had worked from this particular surface more times than he could count, and not _once_ did he recall what he had wanted to look into the most once he was back in Seoul.

The informant let go of his phone, shrugging his shoulder up to hold it against his ear as he rummaged through his desk in search of something that could help him bypass the simple lock mechanism on the drawer.

_“He’s furious, Chanyeol,”_ the other said.

Finally having found something that would suffice— a long, thin, steel ruler— he shoved it in the tight gap between the drawer and the desktop.

When his phone almost dropped, he placed it on his desk and put Junmyeon on speaker as he continued with his task.

_“And it’s only a matter of time till he finds out you’re the one behind those articles. Please be careful— I sent a few of my trusted men to keep watch around your building,”_ Junmyeon added.

Chanyeol missed and lost his grip on the ruler, so he discarded it for an overused steel paperclip he found in the drawer below. He pulled it apart and shoved it in the keyhole. He pushed the clip up towards the pins that kept the drawer locked. 

_“They’re under strict instructions to let you know if they see anything suspicious in the area. I’ve already given them your number.”_

He continued raking the sides of the lock until he pushed all the pins up and tried turning the the lock cylinder that way, but it proved inadequate. So he quickly fished out another paperclip to help apply the appropriate amount of pressure.

“Thanks,” he muttered to the other.

_“What’s with all the noise?”_ Junmyeon asked. _“Is everything okay?”_

Chanyeol paused when he finally managed to turn the lock all the way.

“Hm?” He asked. “It was nothing, I was just looking for a misplaced folder.”

Junmyeon let out a sigh and said nothing else.

Chanyeol pulled on the drawer’s handle until he could see what seemed to be a black velvety jewellery box bizarrely placed right in the middle.

When Yongnam came to him, he brought this in an outer container— a discrete brown box. Then, from behind the desk, he tore it open and placed what Chanyeol could now see was a jewellery case, and locked it before leaving with the key.

He frowned as he reached out for it, bringing it up in front of him. With a deep breath, he opened it.

The white gold ring was familiar.

He picked it up and turned it around between his fingers— the engravings confirming his suspicions.

It was familiar because Chanyeol recalled seeing it time and time again in the photos he had attached to the profile he built on one Byun Baekhyun and his brother.

This was the Byun’s family ring.

So _this_ was where it went after Yixing stole it along with Byun Baekbeom’s severed finger.

A part of Chanyeol was _grateful_ to Gods he didn’t believe in when he realised it could have come with the finger itself, but didn’t.

With a few intakes of breath to calm his racing heart, Chanyeol put the ring back its in box and set it aside on his desk.

_“Are you still angry about two weeks ago?”_ Junmyeon asked. Chanyeol almost forgot he was still on the line with him.

He would figure out what to do with the ring later. He picked his phone back up and held it out in front of him.

“I’m not,” Chanyeol said.

_“Then what is it?”_ Junmyeon asked.

Give it to Junmyeon to sense something was off. He couldn’t tell him about the ring, though.

“I found him, hyung,” he said instead, certain this would grab the other’s attention.

Junmyeon didn’t respond as quickly as he usually did.

_“Found who?”_

“The one who killed my father,” Chanyeol said, tightening the grip of his shaky hand on his phone to avoid dropping it. He chuckled at his exaggerated display of emotions. “I trusted him and showed him sides of me I swore I’d never lay out for anyone.”

“I can’t even find it in me to kill him because for some fucked up reason, he’s grown on me,” Chanyeol added when Junmyeon didn’t say anything. “I went through so much shit to protect him but I can’t even consider hurting him for what he did.”

_“Are you going to?”_ Junmyeon calmly asked.

“No,” Chanyeol said. “I could never. I’ve already cut all ties with him and we’ve agreed not to see each other again.”

_“Wait—“_ Junmyeon said, sounding confused all of a sudden. _“Who are you talking about?”_ he asked.

“Baekhyun. I thought I was being pretty clear,” Chanyeol said.

_“Right. Sorry,”_ Junmyeon said.

Chanyeol hummed.

With Junmyeon being quiet on the other end and Chanyeol’s train of thought coming to a halt, the room felt still to the point that both their calm intakes of breath rang loud.

“Maybe I should leave,” Chanyeol easily let slide.

It was an idea that had crossed his mind once for a millisecond in the past week, but he forgot it the following moment. Without giving it much thought, he made it known to Junmyeon.

“That sounds great,” Junmyeon said. Of course he did. “You’d be safer in a place my uncle holds no power and I wouldn’t have to worry either. You should go for it,” he added.

Chanyeol bit the inside of his cheek and he frowned.

He could imagine a life for himself outside the country, but the image was accompanied by the same one he had been imagining since he had realised the things Yongnam could do to him from prison alone.

Would it really make a difference? Maybe. And maybe it wasn’t wise to rush with such a big decision.

“I’d need to think about this some more,” Chanyeol said.

Just then, Chanyeol heard the sound of his elevator— the inspector was there already, which was strange because he usually called beforehand.

“I have to go—” Chanyeol said. “I have a meeting with a client. It was good talking to you again, hyung.”

He quickly hung up the phone and got off his chair, then walked around his desk to greet his visitor.

Only to realise that he was in for a rude awakening from the last person he expected to see.

“Where is it, Chanyeol?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who couldn't stay away for too long 👀   
> anyway here's another cliffhanger, enjoy 🤧


	12. Chapter 12

“Where is it, Chanyeol?”

If not his client, Chanyeol thought it would be Yixing or anyone else Yongnam had sent as soon as he had found out _Chanyeol_ was the reason he was behind bars.

He had more reasons to believe it would be Junmyeon surprising him after ending the call with him. Hell, it would have made more sense for _Jongdae_ to barge in on him unannounced at this point.

The last thing Chanyeol expected when he woke up this morning was that Byun Baekhyun would walk into his apartment like he owned the place and start shouting accusations as soon as he entered his living room.

If it _was_ about the Byun family ring, then this was more than likely Yongnam’s doing. He probably told Baekhyun where it was with an entirely fabricated story of how it ended up in Chanyeol’s top desk drawer.

The informant grabbed the jewellery box he had set aside and casually walked to stand by the front end of his desk. He hoisted himself up and rested his arms on his thighs, keeping a loose hold on the case as he twirled it between his fingers.

He marvelled at the man standing in front of him; nostrils gaping, the veins running down each side of his forehead straining against his skin, and his jaw seemed painfully clenched. Chanyeol could hear the explosive bursts of air exhaled through his nose from across the room.

“Calm down,” Chanyeol chose to say softly. “Is this what you’re here for?” he asked as he held the case up and waved it.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Baekhyun snarled at him.

Chanyeol immediately motioned to toss it to the other. “I _just_ found it there. I was about to tell you,” he said as he flung it to Baekhyun’s outstretched hands.

“Is that so?” Baekhyun asked after he reached out and caught it.

He watched Baekhyun open the case and inspect the ring for a few seconds before he closed it. Then he looked back at Chanyeol as he continuously twisted the case between his fingers. Chanyeol would have missed the brief twitch of Baekhyun’s lips if he wasn’t paying close attention.

When he provoked Baekhyun last, _this_ was what he expected to see. Much like he was looking at, he expected narrow eyes at the time, he expected to see the faint throbbing of the same veins, and he expected to see him grinding his teeth, and for those pink lips to be pressed into a thin line when they weren’t parted to bark back at him.

He must have thought Chanyeol had been hiding it from him all this time. It wasn’t like Chanyeol was going to keep it after he had coincidentally found it in there. He _was_ planning on at least letting Kyungsoo know.

What he didn’t count on was, as if on cue, just as he found out what Yongnam had been keeping in his apartment for the past _year_ was in fact the Byun family ring; for Baekhyun to magically show up in his apartment in _Seoul_.

“You know, I hired you, an outsider, because you weren’t affiliated with the mob,” Baekhyun said. “I thought it’d be enough to ensure you wouldn’t sell me out.”

“Then again maybe I should’ve expected this after what you pulled with Kyungsoo,” he added. “But this?” he held up the black velvety case.

“You’ve been working with Kim Yongnam _of all people?”_

“Wait—” Chanyeol said. “Baekhyun, I really didn’t know this was what he was _paying me_ to keep here.”

“Maybe none of this would’ve happened if you’d told me you were looking for the ring,” Chanyeol added.

“Well excuse me for thinking I’d automatically find it if I found the rats working under me,” Baekhyun said. “And to think you couldn’t even do _that_ right.”

Except Chanyeol _did_ do that right. And it was precisely what he found in his search that drove him into leaving the city.

It struck him— with the way Baekhyun looked at him like he amounted to nothing as he spat his words out— that even though Yongnam and Yixing deserved what was coming to them; that perhaps it _wasn’t_ unfair of him.

Perhaps it was better for some people to be kept in the dark. That perhaps, if he were to make an exception, it shouldn’t be to the man who killed his father.

For the past couple of days, Chanyeol’s head had seen Baekhyun in two opposite ends of the light.

One that cared for him despite acknowledging how fucked up it was of him to; that recognised the fact that there was a lot he didn’t know about Baekhyun, and how that meant making up excuses for what he had done 10 years prior somewhat okay.

The other one saw him as the vicious Baekhyun that had stabbed his father to death and chose to cruelly leave him in there with the corpse, effectively traumatising him for life. The same one who had hired him and kept him close all the while keeping the past hidden.

Just the idea of having thought of taking it easy on _that_ Baekhyun, the very man he should have killed but couldn’t, made him laugh.

Chanyeol threw his head back and laughed until his stomach couldn’t take it anymore.

“What’s so funny?” he heard Baekhyun ask.

He straightened up and faced the Byun once more as he caught up with his breath.

With one deep intake of air, Chanyeol retorted. “Did you stop to ask yourself why I released information that got Yongnam arrested and put away for life?”

For different reasons, but he still found the culprit. And although it didn’t put him or Yixing to rest, he would still be paying for his crimes one way or another.

“I’m not stupid, Chanyeol. I can make the connection myself,” Baekhyun said. “Don’t go thinking you did me a favour by outing him and getting him out of my way.”

Chanyeol sighed. “It’s not—”

“I don’t care for whatever else you have to say,” Baekhyun said firmly, cutting him off. “Whenever I look at you or hear your voice now I can’t help but regret not killing you before.” 

He had heard those words from Baekhyun enough times for them to have lost their intimidation factor.

“Enough with the empty threats hyung,” Chanyeol said. “If you want me dead so bad then why don’t you actually go through with it?”

“Because I can’t,” Baekhyun answered as he looked down to tuck the jewellery case in his blazer’s inner pocket and straightened out his back to stand taller.

“Why not?” Chanyeol asked. “You didn’t have a problem stabbing my father and leaving him to bleed out,” he snorted. “You couldn’t kill me then, you couldn’t kill me a couple of weeks ago, and you can’t kill me now. Why don’t you at least tell me what’s stopping you?”

Baekhyun raised a brow. “You think _I_ killed your father?”

The part of him that had been insisting that there might have been more to his triggered memory than it seemed screamed _I told you so_.

“But—” Chanyeol narrowed his eyes as the ringing in his ears muffled the sound of his own voice. “You were there that night. You did this to me the first time,” he said as he pointed at the scar on his face, arm and hand barely cooperating with his muscles weighing more than he knew they did all of a sudden. “I _saw_ you.”

It was Baekhyun’s turn to laugh. “Didn’t it occur to you that I wasn’t alone that night?”

Not only that, but Chanyeol also remembered multiple voices and footsteps. He couldn’t forget one of the few details he retained of that night, after all. Yet, he did. How could he have failed to make such a connection?

“You know what?” Baekhyun asked as he straightened out his blazer and tucked down his sleeves. “This works out _great_ for me. Just as you’ve left out the ring, I’m leaving out the rest of what really happened that night.”

Baekhyun turned around to leave.

“Maybe this entire thing could be a lesson not to trust anyone again. For both of us,” he added as he walked down the entrance hall.

After the elevator’s descend, a long silence settled in the apartment.

——————

Chanyeol’s slides pattered repeatedly over the shiny grey floor tiles as he paced, circling the squared marble counter he had in the middle of his kitchen. He was waiting for the carafe of his coffee maker to fill up with the freshly brewed coffee he so desperately needed.

Having been running purely on caffeine for the past couple of days and, for the first time ever, having procrastinated the work he now regretted drowning himself in, he needed to stay awake for longer and finish things up.

If his mind would give him a break long enough to.

Had he not jumped into conclusions from a measly half blurred, long forgotten, repressed memory, he wouldn’t have been violently shoved back to the starting point with nothing to help him find his way back to where he was.

Chanyeol wanted to be wrong about Baekhyun being the one, and he somewhat _believed_ Baekhyun didn’t do it, particularly since he had no proof besides that memory. It was unlike him to go purely by assumptions without any solid evidence to back it up. He hadn’t dealt with that revelation like he would have with a clear head on his shoulders.

Because thinking of that night two weeks ago now, while it could have been the guilt Baekhyun felt that made him back out of his assault, it was likely only because he realised that Chanyeol connected the dots about who scarred his face the first time. It didn’t seem like Baekhyun took into account that Chanyeol came to the conclusion that _he_ was the one who killed his father that night as well.

Chanyeol’s assumption led to him thinking he finally found the man he had been looking for, and it lost him precious time he could have spent furthering the investigation and getting closer to the real answers he had been searching for.

Unless Baekhyun was lying to save his own ass. Although knowing the COO, he had nothing to be scared about. Either way, what reason did he have to lie besides none at all?

The way Baekhyun immediately averted his gaze with Chanyeol’s, how he tried to right his wrongs by offering a car service to take Chanyeol back to Seoul— something he refused to do moments before— and how he quickly made his escape out of the apartment; he truly felt guilty for it, didn’t he?

If Chanyeol hadn’t been so disoriented after that memory triggered and overwhelmed his mind and senses, would he have noticed?

He stopped in front of his coffee maker, closing his eyes to stop the kitchen from spinning. Seeing as there was now a sufficient amount of coffee for several cups, he took a couple of steps forwards to the counter, and poured himself one.

The question now was, how on earth was he supposed to find whoever else was with Baekhyun that night when it took a repressed memory to figure out Baekhyun— probably the only one whose face he got a proper look at— was there?

He tried to recall everything— anything. He tried to gather every ambiguous word that had ever left Baekhyun’s mouth. He tried to piece it all for a hint. His mind refused to cooperate though, as if he unlearned the skills he had acquired over the years.

Chanyeol blew out a few short breaths, then took hold of his cup’s handle and walked back to the living room.

His eyes were focused on taking one step at a time when his peripheral vision spotted something that wasn’t there when he left to the kitchen. _Someone_.

The informant’s head whipped to his right to find Junmyeon seated on his couch, eyes glued to his phone, not bothering to direct them up at Chanyeol.

It wasn’t like him to be that unaware about the sound of the elevator or even footsteps within his apartment. Not when he was in the kitchen separated from his entrance hall by a thin wall.

Nevertheless, Junmyeon’s visit was sudden. Much inconsistent with the heads-up phone calls he always made sure to give Chanyeol a day in advance to force him to free up some time for his company.

His stomach quivered at the abnormality of it all, and it didn’t make it any better that Junmyeon was uncharacteristically quiet in announcing his arrival as well.

Chanyeol tried not to space out too long, and continued his course towards his desk, all the while tightening his grip on his cup as to not let it slip between his shaky fingers.

He placed his cup on his desk and sat down. He then crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat.

“What brings you here?” Chanyeol asked.

Junmyeon still wouldn’t look up from his screen as he responded. “I thought I’d drop by to help you sort everything out before you left, but I see you’re still busy taking on work for a job you said you’d leave.”

“Not anymore,” Chanyeol said.

“Why?” Junmyeon asked. “You said you thought it through and came to the conclusion yourself that it would be best if you left just a few days ago.”

“I only said I was _considering it,_ hyung,” Chanyeol said, turning his gaze toward his cup, trying to fixate on how high up the steam would go until it dispersed. But as he felt Junmyeon’s eyes on him, it was hard to keep his attention on that for too long.

“What made you decide against it then?” Junmyeon asked.

Chanyeol swallowed for the hundredth time, trying to relieve the dryness in his throat. It was starting to feel as if there was some sort of mass at the back of his mouth preventing him from swallowing properly, and it just kept getting bigger with each gulp.

“It’s not Baekhyun,” Chanyeol said.

And when Junmyeon didn’t say anything, he turned to face him to find that he wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead, he had his eyes directed at the coffee table unblinking. His lips formed a thin line. He only hummed in question.

Chanyeol continued talking. “I don’t get it,” he said. “Every time I’m close to figuring it out, I get dragged right back to where I started. Nothing.”

He shifted in his chair and it creaked— maybe it was time for a change soon, he briefly thought— and he sighed, finding comfort in Junmyeon’s silence to verbalise his internal conflict. “I really thought this would be it,” he said. “I thought I could finally move on, but after Baekhyun said it wasn’t him— that it was someone else who killed my dad, I…”

Chanyeol’s words trailed off as it hit him; just as he freely and unconditionally ran his mouth to Junmyeon. He remembered Junmyeon’s confusion while he was talking to him on the phone just three days prior about Baekhyun being the one he was searching for.

Together with Baekhyun’s words right after, it all clicked perfectly.

Who else would be so perfectly connected to all of this? Who else did he trust and respect as much as, if not _more_ than Baekhyun?

Baekhyun tried to warn him on several occasions. He tried to get him to question his undying loyalty to Junmyeon, but his stubbornness made him turn a blind eye to the COO’s words.

Chanyeol looked at Junmyeon, and the latter stared back, wide eyes glistening. Chanyeol realised, and Junmyeon knew he did.

He almost choked as he got his words out. “It was you… wasn’t it?” he asked.

“That’s why you’re all too eager for me to quit this job and cut ties with the mafia— why you’re so eager for me to leave…”

He didn’t want him to find out. He never had any intention on telling him. He never wanted to own up to what he did to end Chanyeol’s 10 year long agony.

And he stayed by his side all this time, he helped him build a career, a stable life— why? For what reason would one stick around and take the son of the man he _murdered_ under his wing?

Chanyeol let out a breath he forgot he took in, feeling tingles up and down his chest. He blinked his eyes several times as his head felt light— as if gusts of wind repeatedly washed over his head— just to be sure he wasn’t blacking out.

It couldn’t be him. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice— until Junmyeon directly told him it wasn’t or _was_ him, he wouldn’t believe it.

“Chanyeol…” Junmyeon said.

“Tell me it wasn’t you.”

Junmyeon licked his lips and sighed. “I can’t.”

Chanyeol snorted and turned away. He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t believe this,” he muttered.

“Let me explain,” Junmyeon said.

The informant stood up and started pacing. _“Now_ you’re ready to explain? After watching me run around in circles for _six fucking years?”_ he said, gradually raising his voice.

He took a deep breath. “Why…? Why’d you do it? _Why_ did you keep it from me?”

Junmyeon sat up straight, allowing his own voice to build up, almost matching Chanyeol’s if it weren’t so naturally gentle. “We were both forced to do it, Chanyeol,” he firmly said. “It’s not like we woke up one day and decided to go kill a _mostly_ innocent man in Seoul.”

“Who forced you?” Chanyeol bit back.

As much as he tried to hear the other out fully and with an open mind until he told his side of things— especially as he would never be able to hear it from the only other person who was there besides the two of them— he couldn’t.

His skin felt flushed and there was a pounding in his ears, rhythmic with the elevated pulse of his heart, that he couldn’t listen to reason beyond. He repeatedly warned himself against doing something he would regret, though. He needed to hear this. He needed to know.

“My father and Chairman Byun,” Junmyeon responded.

Chanyeol’s chest visibly raised and fell as he listened as intently as he could.

“Neither of us could go through with killing you,” he said. “You weren’t supposed to be there that night— our only orders were to get rid of Park Sungjin and we were told he’d be alone, so we wouldn’t have to deal with witnesses.”

“I didn’t even mean to kill _him_. Before we got there Baekhyun and I agreed to let him in on the whole thing and let him go. We agreed to bury the entire thing.”

Junmyeon dropped his gaze to his feet, shaking his head. “He lost his cool first, and I had no choice,” he said. “Then Baekhyun found you in your room. He tried to hurt you, but he couldn’t. So we just left after you passed out.”

Feeling weak at his legs all of a sudden, Chanyeol sat back down on his swivel chair and slouched forward as he heard the other out.

“We were at a loss, but it somehow worked out with you repressing your memories of that night. I paid off the doctor who treated you and after he gave us his report on you, we decided to move on from what happened.”

“Except I couldn’t,” Junmyeon said. “And neither could Baekhyun. He had more self control than to involve himself with you like I did though.”

“The more I did for you to live a comfortable life, the more I felt the guilt I’ve been carrying all these years wither away,” he said. “For a while I thought just being by your side and treating you right was enough to make it go away. Until you started digging around for the culprit, that is.”

“And even though it was too late by then I made it my goal to pull you away from the very thing that ended your father’s life because I didn’t want the same to happen to you,” he said. “But you’ve been more stubborn about this than anything else. Look where you got yourself now.”

Chanyeol forced out a laugh. “Don’t you dare try to guilt trip me for doing what I had to do,” he said. “If you’d told me from the very beginning I wouldn’t have had to go down this path and I definitely wouldn’t have been this deeply involved with the likes of you.”

Junmyeon whipped his head back in Chanyeol’s direction, frowning. “Chanyeol—”

“No,” Chanyeol cut him off. “You’ve only been looking out for your own all this time, haven’t you? It was never to protect me like you’re making it sound. You did it all to protect yourself.”

He wasn’t as upset as he was confused by all this. He still had no clue what to make up of what he just learned. He thought he would feel some sense of accomplishment after having learned of the memory his mind deemed unnecessary to keep that night. He thought it would help him heal.

But all it did was make him hurt more— that the man he looked up to as an older brother figure all this time was the one he should have watched out from the most.

With nothing left to be heard or said between the two of them, and not wanting to look at the other anymore, Chanyeol turned his chair to face the window.

“Get out.”

And Junmyeon complied too easily.

He got up and rang the elevator up to the penthouse.

The minutes it took for Chanyeol to hear its descent were _agony,_ but it came. And it took him away.

It was for the best. Because between not being able to kill him for what he did and not being able to look at him for keeping this for himself all these years, Chanyeol didn’t know what he would have done. 

——————

When Chanyeol walked into his meeting with the inspector, it was with as clear a mind as he could muster at that moment, but even he had his limits.

He hadn’t focused on a word the inspector muttered while he was going through the contents of the folder Chanyeol brought along with him.

The work was complete; as thorough and as flawless as it usually was, and that was a given. His work hadn’t brought him the fame and fortune it had for nothing. This was all just formality, as it had always been.

Chanyeol sat back quietly on his chair, arms folded in front of his chest with his right hand’s nails desperately searching for something to pick at on the bridge of his nose. And when he couldn’t find anything, he started gently rubbing at the scarred skin.

Although it had already been two whole days since Junmyeon’s revelation, he still hadn’t sat down and properly settled on how to feel about it. Usually he would go to Junmyeon for help when he felt this conflicted about something, but he was the one person he _couldn’t_ confide in right now.

He needed to be alone with his thoughts and this consistent shuffling of papers and every sound the inspector was making from as soft as his sighs to as loud as him clearing his throat were driving him insane. Not to mention everything else he could hear beyond the visual privacy of the meeting room they were in. He hated when they couldn’t have the meetings in his own home and he had to come all the way down the KNP headquarters.

Every little thing piled up to add onto his bigger issues and made everything worse.

Had he found out sooner, had he done a better job researching the incident and connected the dots sooner on, he wouldn’t have ended up like this. He wouldn’t be sitting here, bouncing a knee up and down to contain himself from shouting at the inspector to finish up already and end this meeting so that he could leave. His emotions would be in check, like they usually were.

Chanyeol closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, trying to relieve himself of the tightness he felt in his chest. He took his phone out of his pocket and fiddled around with it with no particular motivation other than to feel a little less unhinged and a little more grounded.

It was Junmyeon.

 _Junmyeon_.

 _Kim_ Junmyeon.

 _“I had no choice,”_ he had said.

And that was a fucking lie because there were so many other ways it could have gone. They could have chosen not to barge in his father’s apartment, for one.

But they _did_. Why? Because the intent was there. They _were_ going to go through with it. There was no other explanation.

Now it was too late. The damage was already done; relationships were already broken; his father was already long gone.

Chanyeol had his answers and yet he remained restless— even more so than ever.

He could feel the inspector eyeing his leg every now and then as he continued going through the portfolio Chanyeol worked on, as if bothered by the rapid motion or the faint flapping of the fabric of his pants; as if clearing his own throat every two minutes hadn’t been maddening for Chanyeol to sit through for nearly an hour.

Willing himself to stop, he also brought his right hand down to rest atop his left arm in front of his chest after a sore, burning sensation settled through the friction brought by his nasty habit of aggressively rubbing his scarred skin.

He almost let out a laugh. His entire world— everything he knew, everything he trusted and relied on, everything he _believed_ in had come crumbling down and he couldn’t even express frustration with his body. He had to sit here and pretend like everything was fine while this so called inspector and department paid a 22 year old college student to do an important part of their job for them.

Now Chanyeol had no other choice than to move on. Just like he almost succeeded in doing when he thought it was Baekhyun— whom he couldn’t bring himself to hurt. Junmyeon meant more to him in a whole other way that Baekhyun never did and probably never will, which made it even harder to do what he set out to at the beginning of this nightmare.

Everything changed now that he finally put faces to the ones truly responsible. And they were both faces that he knew, trusted, _cared for_ , and was subsequently betrayed by all at once.

The shittiest thing about this situation was that they both knew exactly who he was, and they both hid it from him and led him on along with their plans, all the while taking advantage of his skillset for whatever intentions they had.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Park?” the inspector voiced out. “Is everything okay? You look a little pale.”

Through a clenched jaw, Chanyeol quietly waved him off. “Everything’s fine,” he had said.

The inspector spared him no further concern, facing the folder in front of him on the table once more.

“I was telling you that some of this information doesn’t match our databases,” the inspector said as he waved a couple of papers around.

“Of course it doesn’t. Isn’t that what you hired me for? To have access to more up to date and _accurate_ information?” Chanyeol retorted.

The inspector looked up at him. “It is, but I’m referring to some of the basic profile information here. Our databases are usually precise about those.”

Chanyeol raised a brow. “Are you doubting my expertise now?”

“Excuse me?”

“If you’ve got your own means of gathering data— as incorrect and faulty as they may be, then you don’t need my services,” Chanyeol said as he pushed his chair back and stood up, making sure to swipe the portfolio and all the loose papers with him.

The inspector followed suit. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Have I said or done anything to offend you?”

Chanyeol snorted. Like hell he was going to let anyone question his credibility like that again. Especially after Baekhyun—

His eye twitched at the thought. Why did everything circle back to _him?_

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” he muttered as he turned around.

He swung the door open and stomped out of the office, not sparing the inspector chasing him another second of his time or the heads peering from the cubicles a single care.

Chanyeol was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i commend some of you that caught on to jun early on 👀 brain big 
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed this chapter 🥺❤️ see you sunday!!


	13. Chapter 13

The whoosh of air brakes and squeaks of metal rubbing against metal as the train came to a halt rang, loud even through Chanyeol’s noise cancelling earphones.

A disappointment given their price, especially as it frustrated Chanyeol out of his own train of thoughts.

“This stop is Daegu station,” the announcement sounded over the speakers just as the scrolling text atop the entrance to the train car displayed the name of their current and following stop.

It won’t be much longer now.

Passengers stood in a line along the narrow aisle and sliding car door to exit the train one by one. A much needed cold breeze from the outside fanned at Chanyeol’s sweaty nape when it slipped through the doors that were held open as the mostly _elderly_ passengers took their sweet time.

Time that Chanyeol couldn’t afford to waste at the moment.

Although truthfully, Chanyeol didn’t have to be in such a rush. In fact, he had plenty of time to get to Busan just to find Baekhyun, grab him by his expensive black collar and tie, and shake his scrawny body repeatedly while waving around his pocket knife if that was what it was going to take to get his side of the story out of him.

Maybe he won’t need to go to such lengths, because he figured Baekhyun owed him as much.

He fucked up big time earlier with the inspector, and he wasn’t sure if there was anything he could do at the moment to undo the damages that were already done. If he got his answers from Baekhyun soon— if he could step out of this state of unrest soon enough, things would go back to the way they were. _He_ would go back to the way he was.

Chanyeol didn’t need all these excessive emotions that made him act out in ways he never had before. And maybe if he had his answers in full, he wouldn’t be scurrying around just to keep himself in check.

He looked out the window as the train started moving again, not able to focus on one particular far-away sight in the city. He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted from one crossed leg to the other.

Would he even be in this state— on this train to see a man that would probably shoot him the first chance he got if he saw his face again, if he hadn’t met Jongdae all those years ago? If he hadn’t been persuaded by the man to search for his father’s murderers in the first place? What would Chanyeol have done had he known Jongdae was pulling the strings behind a ploy he had orchestrated out of boredom without anyone else’s knowledge?

Kim Jongdae could have been the source of all his problems to begin with. He had known the type of mess that would unfold if he turned Chanyeol into what he was now and if he led Junmyeon closer to him like he had— being a trusted consultant of the Kim family, all he had to do was put in a good word and Junmyeon came to _him_.

Perhaps Jongdae knew the exact course of action Junmyeon would take once he had his grasp on then 16 year-old Chanyeol. He knew Junmyeon would be overwhelmed with guilt into bringing Chanyeol under his protection and care for what he did to his father. Then after he brought them together, all he had to do was sit back and watch. For what motive? Chanyeol would never know because Jongdae sure as hell wasn’t one to share his plans.

There was this other unlikely possibility that Junmyeon might have been in on it but Chanyeol didn’t know what to expect from that man anymore.

He felt his face heat up as a sheen of sweat gathered on his forehead. Either it was too hot in this particular train car, or he was losing it again. The tightness he felt in his chest would bet on the latter.

Chanyeol wiped away whatever he could with the back of his hand as he took in a deep breath, then he looked back out the window again.

His _personal_ problems and current turmoil started in Busan. That was part of the reason he was headed back there— he believed he could end it where it began.

Now that he achieved his ulterior motive of taking Baekhyun’s job in the first place— now that he knew who the real murderer was, maybe he needed to hear the entire story in detail from both culprits if he wanted any piece of mind. Maybe he would come to better conclusions on what to do next or just have his long needed closure. That, and he had unfinished business with the associate that still managed to linger in his mind.

Chanyeol got paid fully for the job Baekhyun hired him to do, and the fact that he never got around to actually finishing it for the COO didn’t sit well with him.

Maybe now that he didn’t view Baekhyun as his father’s murderer, he would be able to face him and finish things up properly.

They could both have the closure they needed. And maybe that could finally help him move the fuck on as this had dragged on for far too long already.

But although he felt lost and without a sense of purpose, Chanyeol had no regrets. He couldn’t have imagined how his life would have turned out if he never set out on his hunt. He at least got to know what his father did to deserve such a cruel death— which he didn’t— as well as why and how _he_ was left behind.

Chanyeol’s phone vibrated on the table in front of his single seat, and he reached out for it.

**From Kim Jongdae:**

You’d better hope that train gets you here fast enough.

Chanyeol raised a brow. What was that supposed to mean?

He shook his head, not in the mood for whatever the hacker was up to. He set his phone back on the table and sat back on his seat, trying to find calm in the passing scenery through his window as his heart began to race.

——————

As soon as Chanyeol reached Busan Station, he ran through the platforms to switch to the subway line. Then he got off at the first stop located in Nam-gu.

It was pouring as Chanyeol manoeuvred his way through a sidewalk that was unusually packed with pedestrians and their umbrellas, so as he spotted the alleyway he had taken several times before to get out of unwanted sight, he slipped in and stood there for a moment.

Perhaps it was bad judgement on his end because to his terrible luck, today _of all days,_ and the first time since he came to Busan for this job, he had company.

He had a feeling he was being watched as soon as he stepped out of the train. As if they had been specifically waiting for him at the platform. Since Jongdae knew he was coming, he should have expected others would know too.

Chanyeol quickly made the connection though— as if it needed any spare thoughts of his— that it was likely Kim Yongnam’s doing.

The muscles in his legs tensed for a second as he clicked his tongue and frowned. He could easily outrun them, but he doubted he would be able to lose them easily because it was a rather straightforward path towards where he wanted to get to from here. And knowing how these people worked, they probably already know where he was headed or even had others waiting to ambush him on the way.

Instead of staying there, waiting around to see what they wanted and what they’d do to him as they caught up, Chanyeol began running, stomping on several puddles and getting his shoes and pants soaked and muddy .

He was almost at the end of the alley to make an exit into the other street that seemed less packed than the other when he heard rushed heavy footsteps behind him. He decided to stop and take a glance behind him.

There were two middle-aged men clad in suits and long coats, but they didn’t seem familiar to Chanyeol. However they _were_ armed, and Chanyeol knew he needed to get out and stay in plain sight to avoid getting shot again. He was still healing from the wound on his shoulder, he didn’t need another one to worry about.

Chanyeol made a run for the main street and ran ahead to cross it, hoping to catch a taxi there to lose them for good.

As he stood on the pavement, a familiar car nearly drove over his feet as it parked in front of him. Although he was hesitant, Chanyeol didn’t have the time to think it over before he got in, and the other immediately drove off.

Chanyeol turned around as he was fastening his seatbelt and to his surprise, he watched the two whip out their guns and aim them at the moving vehicle. Passer-bys immediately began panicking and running in the opposite direction.

“Keep your head down and hang tight!” Junmyeon shouted as he swerved and took the first turn out of that specific street.

They were easily able to slip away from the two armed men. Junmyeon just saved his ass.

For a long minute, it was dead silent with Chanyeol panting and Junmyeon focused on the road in front of him for once.

Until he went ahead and opened his mouth. And honestly, Chanyeol never wanted him to shut up as much as he did at that moment. Especially since he only got in because he quickly concluded that he had no other options if he wanted to get out of this alive.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Junmyeon muttered.

“That’s not your call,” Chanyeol retorted as he sat back up on his seat. He couldn’t bear to look at Junmyeon right now, so he kept his eyes straight ahead as well.

Junmyeon let out a quick breath. “Well you couldn’t have picked a worse time to show your face here,” he said.

“I can see that now given we were just shot at,” Chanyeol said. “And I’m gonna take a wild guess and say those bullets weren’t meant for you.”

Chanyeol shot his eyes to the side to see if he could get a glimpse of the other’s body language without having to see his face as he said what he wanted to say.

“Yet again for all I know you could’ve set that up to swoop in and save me in the nick of time just to salve your conscience once more.”

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon warned.

“Don’t,” Chanyeol said. “Just stop the car and let me out.”

But Junmyeon continued driving. In the correct direction too.

“I think it’d be in your best interest if I drove you myself,” Junmyeon said.

And it only irritated Chanyeol more as he fought back the urge to take the pocket knife that Junmyeon himself had bought for him and dig it in the other’s thigh to force him to stop.

Of course as much as he wanted to, as much as he felt like doing it, he couldn’t bring himself to.

He berated himself for it.

This was the man who killed his father. This was the man who lied to him for _six years_ and deceived him into believing he genuinely cared for him all this time. This was the man Chanyeol considered to be an older brother figure. The man Chanyeol trusted the most in this twisted world— the one who turned out to have been keeping him by his side to alleviate himself of the guilt he had felt all that time and to avoid being outed for a crime he committed all those years ago.

Yet Chanyeol couldn’t bring himself to put a scratch on him.

Junmyeon probably had an underlying motive as to why he kept Chanyeol close to him all those years, because a person without any ill intentions wouldn’t pull something like that.

What was he thinking getting in the car with him as if he had absolutely no other option of getting out of a situation he had been in _and_ gotten out of several times before?

A part of him— a _delusional_ part of him— always felt immediately wrapped in a safety blanket whenever he was around Junmyeon. He didn’t have time to disconnect the feeling of security from the older, and it was probably why he only hesitated for a second before jumping straight in as Junmyeon pulled over.

Chanyeol’s body felt wet and sticky with sweat rather than droplets of rain in the middle of a cold winter. It made sense for a second as he had been running since he left the station, but the tingling sensation in his skin and the tightness around his chest were alarming. He felt like he his body was overheated, just as it was in the train.

He shifted in his seat, too agitated with his current situation to stay still. Especially when Junmyeon took another turn that would eventually lead them straight to the Byun apartment building he stayed at in his time in the city.

“Why do you even know where I’m headed?” Chanyeol found the motive to ask. “And how’d you know I was coming to Busan?”

Junmyeon stopped at a traffic light and kept facing forward with a hand still on the wheel while the other comfortably rested on the cushion between their seats by the elbow. “Jongdae,” he simply said.

Chanyeol nodded to himself. “Of course.”

Any moment of silence fell heavier than usual between them and it made the car feel too air-tight for Chanyeol.

Since he had no choice but to stay for the ride, he was both content and irritated that Junmyeon tried to make small conversation again.

“Are you sure about going there?” Junmyeon asked. “It might be too late you know.”

The informant raised a brow. “What do you mean _too late?”_

He felt Junmyeon turn to face him for the first time since he had gotten in the car. “You don’t know?” He asked.

Chanyeol looked out the window, avoiding Junmyeon’s eyes. He tried to sound as calm as he could, although his heartbeat picked up at the sound of _too late_.

“Know what?” He asked.

“Shit,” Junmyeon said. “Chanyeol, my uncle sent a few of his men after Byun earlier. They might already be—”

“No, that bastard’s just fine. It’s the bodies of Yongnam’s men you have to worry about cleaning up,” Chanyeol said.

Although he couldn’t help the feeling of dread that washed over him at the possibility of Yongnam’s men being accompanied by Zhang Yixing.

No no no. He shouldn’t even be worried in the first place. Why was he? If worse comes to worst, he could ask Junmyeon for what he came to hear from Baekhyun and live off of that version of whatever happened that night.

Junmyeon hummed as he took a final turn and made a stop along the building’s driveway where, unsurprisingly enough with accordance to what Junmyeon had just told him, numerous vehicles of the same manufacturer, model, and colour were parked. And that only meant one thing.

He kept his car near the entrance of the complex, ready for an emergency getaway should the need for one rise. While it was the safest option for the both of them moving forward, it made walking up to the building’s reception area longer than it usually was.

Chanyeol prepared his set of access keys to enter the building, but as they got closer he could see that _that_ wouldn’t be necessary given that the glass doors and windows at the entrance were shattered to pieces.

Instantly, he prepared himself for the worst.

They both stopped at the entrance, taking in the sight in front of them. Then the faint smell of iron hit them, and Chanyeol instinctively took a step back.

“Shit,” Junmyeon muttered.

At least a dozen bodies of men in suits similar to the ones the men that were chasing him earlier were wearing scattered around the lobby and the elevator area— which was no longer locked away, as the glass separating it from the main lobby was also broken into.

Chanyeol glanced at the receptionist area, to see the concierge who usually greeted him’s body slouched over. He frowned.

Junmyeon whipped out his own gun as he entered first, carefully stepping around the bodies and their weapons as he found an easy path towards the elevators, all the while keeping an eye out for any movement.

Something on the body closest to Chanyeol caught his eye under the moonlight— he bent down to get a better look and was surprised to see two thick parallel lines in black on the man’s wrist, representing the Song family syndicate.

The men Kim Yongnam had sent didn’t even belong to the Kims. So the alliance he had formed with the Songs was still ongoing after all.

Chanyeol got up and rushed through the same path Junmyeon took, tripping and falling on a body when he stepped on a handgun he couldn’t see through the black marble tiles.

He heard Junmyeon sigh. “I warned you,” he said.

Irked that Junmyeon was witness to that, the informant rolled his eyes as he stood up, noting he got some blood on his clothes and palms. He wiped them off on his damp jeans and moved forward.

When he got to the elevators, he pushed the key and called for one. But as if the silence in the room wasn’t heavy enough, an exchange of gunshots rang through from the floor above, and everything became still all of a sudden.

Even the ding signifying the elevator’s arrival cut loud. It was all it took to invite Chanyeol in, but Junmyeon immediately grabbed his wrist and pulled him out.

“Let go,” Chanyeol said.

“It’s too dangerous Chanyeol, I can’t—”

They were both startled by another gunshot— a louder, much more clear one that came from the lobby area they had just passed. The bullet pierced through the wall right above where the elevator keys were, forming a clean hole.

A loud, consistent ringing settled in Chanyeol’s ears. While Junmyeon was quick to react; letting go of his arm and focusing on the source, Chanyeol stood still and watched as Junmyeon shot back, flinching each time the other pulled the trigger.

He could feel the familiar and entirely unpleasant flare of panic coil tight around him and smother him slowly. He was becoming more and more breathless with each passing second, but it somehow registered in his head that he had to take himself out of this situation.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t prepared for something like this. Well, as prepared as he could be within a few minutes prior to his arrival to Baekhyun’s apartment complex. But again, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been shot at before.

Still, he turned his head to the side, locating the emergency staircase before he fled to it. As quick as he tried to run, he felt like there was a weight on his legs pulling him back and slowing him down. It was the exact feeling of being chased in a bad dream and being unable to outrun the pursuer.

Not here. Not _now._

He somehow made it to the door that took him outside, and he immediately started ascending the staircase, all the while gasping for air that didn’t even feel like was reaching his lungs.

If a short jog felt slow, going up this first flight of stairs felt entirely _impossible_ when it was stretching before his eyes.

He had taken these stairs many times just a month ago. He _knew_ they weren’t this long in the back of his mind but he couldn’t focus, even as he tried to blink away the spots forming in his vision as he grew more and more breathless.

Chanyeol stumbled and maybe hit his knee against the concrete— if he did, he couldn’t feel it with the adrenaline shooting through his system with one goal in mind.

He didn’t know how long it took, but he made it to the door that would lead him to the lobby area in front of Baekhyun’s office and somehow got his keys out and unlocked it, then closed it with a loud thud behind him. He stood against it and rested his forehead on the cold metal.

Closing his eyes and putting his palms over his ears, he took in breaths as deeply and as controlled as he could given his circumstance. He wasn’t going to allow this to consume him. Not now. It wasn’t time for this.

Especially not when he could feel the presence of someone else in the reception area; not when he could feel a pair of eyes on him.

It was faint beyond the loud pounding of his heart, but he could hear a familiar voice call out for him— and just that was enough to tell him that he was out of immediate danger.

He had something to do. He was here for a reason. And although he was still in distress, he could feel himself regaining his composure— and the ringing started to fade away, making him put his arms back down.

As he began anchoring himself, he was reunited with his surroundings. And as his hearing caught on to the exchange of gunfire that was still ongoing in the main reception area below where he had left Junmyeon, a sense of relief washed over him. Whether it was because he was out of their aim or that it served as a sign that Junmyeon was still alive and still fighting back, he wasn’t sure at the moment.

Chanyeol balled his fists as tightly as he could through the tingly sensations he still felt at the tips of his fingers, and he balanced himself on each leg to determine if he could move forward or if he should hide out until it was safe enough for him to leave the city.

Seeing he still had some strength in him, he whipped out his pocket knife and took his coat off, letting it drop on the ground as turned away from the door and continued his way to the reception area he had sat at back on his first day in Busan.

He heard low grunting, then recalled he heard someone calling his name earlier when he almost lost control. He still couldn’t rush inside with that knowledge, as he deemed himself unreliable in that state, so he trudged carefully and kept as sharp an eye and ear as he could muster.

Then he spotted Kyungsoo just around the corner.

Kyungsoo had been trying to gain his footing as he tried to steady himself against the corridor wall. Chanyeol’s eye trailed down to a wound on his thigh, blood still seeping through the light grey fabric of his suit pants.

The injury had been clumsily patched up with a piece of ripped cloth from his jacket— a quick glance showed Chanyeol that what remained of it was discarded nearby.

Chanyeol lightly jogged towards the other and he helped him down.

“Kyungsoo hyung—”

“Took you long enough,” Kyungsoo cut him off as he rested his head on the wall behind him. He took a look at Chanyeol and added, “you look like shit.”

Chanyeol gave an exhausted tug of his lips. “So do you,” he said.

“Listen,” Kyungsoo brushed him off and began saying. “It’s Zhang Yixing. He’s the mole,” he said.

The informant sighed. He might as well out himself now. The worst that could happen was already happening.

“I know,” Chanyeol said. “He’s been working with Kim Yongnam.”

Kyungsoo winced as he stretched out his uninjured leg, surely curling his toes in pain as much as he could from inside his shoes.

“Save the details for later,” Kyungsoo said as he took in a sharp breath and pinched his eyes shut.

Not knowing how to help him for now, Chanyeol glanced around. “Where’s Baekhyun hyung?” he asked.

And as if on cue, something fell and broke from Baekhyun’s office, and the sound of someone thrashing around followed.

He didn’t know what had taken over him, but he immediately stood up, grip on his pocket knife tightening as he took a step in the direction of those familiar double doors.

Kyungsoo stopped him in his tracks as he tugged at his pants. When Chanyeol looked back down at him, he had been holding up a gun.

Chanyeol extended his free hand and took it, shoving it in between the waistband of his pants and undergarments, and making sure he concealed it with the oversized sweater he had on.

“Be careful,” Kyungsoo said.

The informant quickly nodded to him and slowly walked down the hallway, listening for any changes in the situation inside.

It had become alarmingly quiet in there since they had heard something shatter, but as he got closer to the double doors, he could hear a bit of a ruckus and, to his expectation, he heard Yixing’s voice.

Chanyeol held his breath and pressed an ear against the door, and a hand lightly on the door’s handle as to not alert any of the office’s occupants.

“…ruined many lives back in China with the decisions he’d made when he took charge.”

He was referring to Baekhyun’s brother, Baekbeom.

“With you Byuns gone, I can ensure nothing like this happens again,” Yixing said.

So this was a personal vendetta of his against the Byuns.

Chanyeol recalled reading something about Yixing’s connections with the arms dealers that supplied the Byuns with all their weapons through Busan Port.

Kyungsoo had taken him there one afternoon during his time in Busan, and he had shown him how they smuggle in those weapons and other illegal substances. They had total and complete control of the area, and since they had the police force in their pockets, no one questioned what they did there.

He remembered seeing Yixing there, supervising the process of carefully cutting up imported frozen fish to extract the guns and drugs they had cleverly hidden in there. It was a rather fascinating experience to see first hand how organised crime worked in South Korea, although he remembered how he quickly got bored after learning those things.

But he could see how this had a negative effect on people Yixing probably cared about back in China. And he could somewhat understand why Yixing would agree to doing something like this.

The question was, what did he gain from working with Kim Yongnam? Chanyeol could only guess he approached him with an offer Yixing couldn’t resist and he provided him with all the information and manpower he needed to get the job done.

Chanyeol heard what sounded like a short struggle, so he swung the door open and barged in.

Maybe the sight in front of him wasn’t entirely what he had been expecting. Because for some odd reason, he thought Baekhyun would have been carrying a fatal injury by now, as Yixing had already bypassed Kyungsoo— the stronger and more cunning of the two.

In front of him was an ongoing struggle between them on the floor, with Yixing at a disadvantage. Chanyeol realised he had fucked up merely by walking in, as it somewhat distracted Baekhyun and gave Yixing just enough leverage to throw him off and dig a knife into the wooden floor beneath them through the palm of his hand, causing Baekhyun to groan out in pain before suppressing it.

“Baekhyun hyung—”

Chanyeol stood still at the foot of the door, unable to process what had happened in front of him. After all, he had only been in so many life-threatening situations before, so he wasn’t exactly _trained_ for this sort of situation the same way the others were.

And when Yixing stood up, seeming extremely satisfied with his work, he turned to Chanyeol. Something churned in his stomach at the sight.

“Why the _fuck_ are you here?” Baekhyun growled out.

Chanyeol didn’t know how to answer him. He couldn’t have anyway with the alarming pace Yixing was approaching him at. His grip on his pocket knife tightened, but he couldn’t charge at the other without a plan. Why the fuck did he walk in here without a plan?

The informant took a defensive stance, but Yixing wasn’t phased. He seemed confident with his quick reflexes and superior hand-to-hand combat skills that Chanyeol read several reports on when he was researching the other. He knew he didn’t stand a chance as he was.

With a single swift kick that knocked the knife out of Chanyeol’s grip, he was proven right. When Chanyeol tried to put some distance between them, Yixing dragged him closer and wrapped his arms around his neck, forcing him into a chokehold facing Baekhyun, who had still been pinned to the ground. Seeing this, though, he used his other hand to pry the knife out, but it wouldn’t budge.

As Chanyeol started clawing at Yixing’s forearms while watching Baekhyun’s own struggle in front of him, a thought of how sharp that knife must have been and how hard Yixing must have dug it into the ground crossed his mind. And in that moment, everything went mute and all he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat racing. Then some excess energy washed over him.

His eyes started darting around, looking for something, _anything_ to get himself out of this situation. Then, as his breathing was getting increasingly restricted with Yixing fully intent on cutting his breath completely, Chanyeol remembered something.

Fumbling about to lift his sweater up, he located and grabbed the gun. He rested its barrel on his side and aimed it at Yixing’s as fast as he could before the other took notice. And he shot.

The arms around Chanyeol’s neck loosened up, and he heard a thud on the ground behind him. He immediately dropped his gun and hunched over and fell, wheezing while coughing as he tried to catch up with his breath.

Chanyeol heard Yixing hiss in pain, and he thought he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

But as the adrenaline wore off a bit, he felt a sting on his side— maybe he hadn’t shot Yixing as cleanly as he thought he did, because the bullet grazed him before going through.

Meaning Yixing was probably not hit as fatally as he thought—

Chanyeol looked up in horror at the realisation, but his eyes widened at the sight in front of him instead.

Baekhyun had broken free and picked up the gun Chanyeol had discarded onto the floor. He had it aimed at Chanyeol with his finger on the trigger.

And without any word, he pulled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooo good night!


	14. Chapter 14

Chanyeol looked up in horror at the realisation, but his eyes widened at the sight in front of him instead.

Baekhyun had broken free and picked up the gun Chanyeol had discarded onto the floor. He had it aimed at Chanyeol with his finger on the trigger.

And without any word, he pulled.

The bullet _barely_ missed Chanyeol’s ear. He turned his head back just in time to see Yixing’s body drop thanks to the new hole Baekhyun put in his head. It seemed his own shot hadn’t done much damage to Yixing because of his poor aim as expected— he only managed to scratch the surface of Yixing’s side.

With the mole finally down, Chanyeol had never felt more relieved. His hands still trembled as he clutched at his own side, which the bullet grazed before penetrating Yixing, then he laid on the ground. It took a few seconds and a couple of deep breaths but the pain finally overwhelmed his senses after the adrenaline shot down.

He heard Baekhyun drop the gun and he shuffled closer to his side, immediately pulling his hands away and lifting his shirt up to check on the extent of his injury.

That he could move like that let alone aim a gun with as much precision while one of his hands was bleeding out. Incredible.

“You’re bleeding quite a bit but I don’t see a deformity,” Baekhyun said as he grabbed Chanyeol’s hands and placed them back over the wound, applying some pressure on it. “It’s not deep.”

A low groan escaped Chanyeol’s throat at the sudden force.

“Baekhyun listen, this was all Kim Yongnam’s doing. He planned on—”

“Save it. I already know everything,” Baekhyun said as he kept his eyes down on Chanyeol’s wound. “Just not the part where this guy,” he motioned to Yixing’s body on the floor, “was the rat I’ve been aiming to lure out. All because of one terrible informant who couldn’t do his job right.”

Chanyeol laughed but stopped immediately, hissing at the pain. “At least neither of you are dead,” he managed to say. “Kyungsoo’s just outside, but he’s injured badly.”

Baekhyun drew a deep breath through his nose and nodded at Chanyeol.

In all of his time with Baekhyun, this was probably the only gesture Chanyeol had been able to read off of him. Chanyeol knew all about body language— as he was sure Baekhyun did— but Baekhyun was never one to display any let alone display signs that he had been suppressing what he felt.

Baekhyun was _relieved_ to hear about Kyungsoo. And for the first time, he didn’t hide it. Chanyeol didn’t know why.

As he was overthinking and probably showing it, Baekhyun pressed a little harder on his injury. He wheezed.

“Fuck this hurts—”

“Stop the dramatics, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun’s voice cut above his. “It’s just a graze and it’s not even bleeding much.”

Chanyeol winced quietly and looked up at the ceiling. He had no idea what they were waiting for. Why Baekhyun wasn’t calling for help or why he wasn’t checking up on Kyungsoo himself.

Why was Baekhyun still here giving aid to him when his own injury was probably worse? What was he waiting for?

The informant focused on breathing in and out, finally regulating his breath for the first time since he had gotten to Nam-gu. He had no idea how he could get so relaxed in such a situation, but he somehow managed to.

“I thought I told you to never show your face here again.”

Chanyeol kept his eyes up and took another deep breath. “Yeah well I figured you know, since you spared my life all those years ago, I’d return the favour.”

“I was doing just fine till you walked in,” Baekhyun said. “It threw me off guard.”

The informant closed his eyes for a moment. “Right,” he said.

Baekhyun didn’t say anything after. One glimpse at him and Chanyeol found that his eyes were fixated on his grazed side, seeming somewhat out of focus— as if his mind was suddenly occupied by something else.

It reminded Chanyeol that they hadn’t left off on good terms last time they saw each other. Not that he ever forgot about it. It was more as if they had both decided to set it aside for a bit until they got out of this mess.

And dare he say, he preferred it this way.

He felt Baekhyun’s bloody hands move away from his wound, forcing him to increase the pressure on his own.

Chanyeol lifted his neck up to see if he could get a look at why Baekhyun had done that, only to see him raise a brow.

“Why are you _really_ here?” Baekhyun asked.

But before Chanyeol could give an answer, he heard the door that had automatically shut behind him swing open with Kyungsoo clutching onto the handle while he rested his body on its frame. He looked dangerously pale. Baekhyun immediately stood up and rushed to be by his side.

Seeing him like that, Chanyeol realised that maybe his wound wasn’t _that_ painful. Or maybe his pain tolerance was low as hell compared to those two. How was Kyungsoo still conscious at this point? Chanyeol had passed out in an instant for an _entire_ _day_ after he got shot the first time.

He sat up while both his hands remained on top of his wound attempting to maintain the same amount of pressure. It really _didn’t_ hurt as much as the still healing wound on his arm did.

“Chanyeol, we’re leaving,” Baekhyun called out.

As if it was entirely normal between them, Chanyeol stood up after a little struggle and staggered behind the two. He couldn’t help but wonder why he was accepting enough to take Baekhyun’s vague invitation for him to follow or why Baekhyun wanted him to follow in the first place.

Was it because Baekhyun didn’t want to be indebted to him? Chanyeol let out a soft sigh as he watched the two in front of him move to the stairs instead of the elevator.

Even though they were both injured and bleeding out, Baekhyun helped Kyungsoo to his car with ease, as if he didn’t have a cut that cleanly went into the back of his hand through his palm.

On their way out of the building, Chanyeol couldn’t see Junmyeon. He didn’t know why, but he was reassured when he saw that his car was the only one no longer there. So he tagged along with Baekhyun— not that he would have gone anywhere with Junmyeon again after everything.

Chanyeol helped Baekhyun lay Kyungsoo at the back before getting into the passenger’s seat. He had a hard time trying to fasten his own seatbelt, so Baekhyun had to bend over and get that done for him before he drove off.

He heard Kyungsoo call Dr. Kang’s practice to give him a heads up on their arrival and conditions. His own phone’s ringing interrupted him from listening in to their conversation, though. He kept a hand on his wound, although with how weak he began to feel, he doubted it would be of any help to suppress the bleeding. He fished his phone out of his pocket using his other hand.

When he saw the caller ID, he grimaced. Baekhyun glanced at him, silently curious as to who it was.

Chanyeol slid his thumb across his screen to answer. The other started talking before he could utter a sound, let alone a full greeting.

_“Hello, Mr. Informant~ a job well done!”_ Jongdae jittered. _“Oh, and Minseokkie’s grateful for what you’ve done too, but he’d never say it out loud.”_

He raised a brow. _Minseokkie?_

“What on earth—”

_“Can you put me on speaker?”_

It was Chanyeol’s turn to glance at Baekhyun, who had been listening in on the conversation. As Baekhyun nodded for him to do what he was asked, Chanyeol made a mental note to turn his call’s volume down next time because this wasn’t something he was about to get used to.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped on his screen.

“You’re on speaker,” Chanyeol said.

Another familiar voice sounded at the other end of the line.

_“I’ve sent for a group to clean up the mess my father made.”_

From this point on, Chanyeol could sense he was about to be thrown out of the loop from his own phone call.

“Appreciate you keeping your end of the deal Kim,” Baekhyun said, not an ounce of appreciation present in his tone as he kept his focus on the road.

So all of this had been planned. Figured.

_“As long as you keep to your end, our agreement stands,”_ Minseok said.

“Mm,” Baekhyun agreed.

Then Minseok ended the call, just like that.

Chanyeol locked his phone and dropped it on his lap. He placed his hand back on top of the other on his injury, then he looked at Baekhyun for answers as to what just happened. Once the car stopped at another red light, Baekhyun looked back at him and clicked his tongue.

“Just how nosy could you get?”

The informant shrugged as he turned to look at the road ahead. “I like to refer to it as curiosity,” he said.

Baekhyun let out a low groan as he started driving again, instantly resigning to Chanyeol.

“As impossible as it sounds, we’ve agreed to coexist,” Baekhyun started. “We wouldn’t trespass one another nor interfere with the other’s business from now on. All on the condition that I’d get rid of his father’s men for him and in exchange, he’d dispose of the Songs for us both and split the territory.”

“Basically we’d do what our incompetent predecessors always planned on doing but never managed to,” Baekhyun said.

So in a way, Chanyeol played right into their hands by putting Yongnam behind bars. More so he was led on and encouraged by Kim Jongdae to do them all a favour in taking the first and most important step to set their plan in motion.

With Yongnam in jail, he would be forced to resort to using the ones most loyal to him to have Baekhyun removed. And once they’re lured out, Baekhyun would be prepared— as would Minseok on his end of the bargain.

The question was, was Junmyeon in on all this? He knew about what was going down in Baekhyun’s building, but was he in on it with his cousin and Baekhyun?

Whether he was or not didn’t change how Chanyeol felt towards him, so he didn’t care enough to ponder on it any further.

“I see,” Chanyeol nodded. “Good for you I guess.”

Chanyeol hummed as he added, “maybe I’ll enjoy coming here more without all the turf wars and the constant fear that someone’s got a bullet with my name on it wherever I go,” he said.

“No guarantee that _that’s_ how things’ll be from now on, but good to know you’ve got a wild imagination,” Baekhyun said.

He didn’t know if it was visible, but Chanyeol could feel a flush slowly wash over from his neck, on the way up to his face.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

Baekhyun chuckled.

And it downed on Chanyeol just how long it had been since he heard that sound. Maybe not that long, but with everything that had happened, these past two weeks felt like _months_.

They shouldn’t have been speaking as casually as they were. There was still much that needed to be sorted out between them, much that needed to be said. Chanyeol would have done it right then and there if Kyungsoo hadn’t been fast asleep in the back seat and if he wasn’t feeling as drained and faint as he was.

Because Baekhyun didn’t seem like the confrontation type, Chanyeol wondered how long he could dance around their predicament for. One thing for certain was that Chanyeol wouldn’t allow him to.

As soon as they were safe, patched up, and well rested, he was going to bring it up.

In the meantime, he was going to mentally prepare himself for it.

——————

Now with two healing gunshot wounds, showering was out of the question for Chanyeol. Since that was the first thing he did every morning before breakfast, he had no other choice but to hover around the bedroom he had shared with Kyungsoo, as a means for Dr. Kang to conveniently check on them both when he arrived.

The Wi-Fi signal was weak where they were, so spacing out instead of being out in the garden couldn’t have sounded more fun as a means to pass time.

After getting to Dr. Kang’s the previous night, all three of them got treated immediately, then Baekhyun drove for about an hour and a half until they got to a house he owned located in a village hidden between the trees in Geumjeong mountain. Chanyeol didn’t even question _how_ he had an unscathed house in the Kims’ territory. There was a lot of land surrounding the house too; the drive from the outer gates to the door itself took about two minutes.

The entire car ride there was quiet— either Baekhyun thought Chanyeol was fast asleep as Kyungsoo was, or he didn’t have much to say. Not that Chanyeol had anything to say either at that point, but mostly because he didn’t know where to begin.

He sighed and got out of his temporary bedroom, noting that things around the house weren’t as they were before they all went to sleep, meaning Baekhyun was already up and running. Except he was nowhere to be seen.

Seeing this, Chanyeol immediately walked up to a window with a view of the garden area, where he found Baekhyun seated on a bench between properly maintained tall grass.

Chanyeol took a deep breath. If ever he was going to muster up the courage to have an actual conversation with Baekhyun about everything, he couldn’t have asked for a more fitting setting and time. It was as if it was set up for him exactly for that purpose.

He grabbed a fleece blanket from a nearby closet and he threw it over his head, wrapping it over his torso before he put on his shoes and stepped outside.

A shiver crept up his spine as soon as the cold air hit him and he had to halt in his steps— how was Baekhyun sitting so casually there clad in his loungewear only?

It snowed the night prior and it was particularly heavy when they got to the mountain area. The wooden bench Baekhyun was sitting on was undoubtedly wet.

When he got closer, he could see that what he thought was steam coming out of Baekhyun’s mouth due to the cold was actually steam _and_ _smoke_ from the cigarette between his fingers. And although he hated the idea of second-hand smoke entering his lungs, he still sat next to him.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker,” Chanyeol said as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs— he felt a little sting on his side where the bullet had grazed him, but brushed it off.

“I’m not,” Baekhyun said as he brought his hand up to take a drag. He inhaled, then exhaled along with his following words. “The circumstances desperately called for it.”

Chanyeol was in the middle of humming in understanding when he coughed as his senses were overwhelmed by the smell, the light breeze whisking the smoke his way didn’t help.

“Go back inside if it bothers you,” Baekhyun said.

Instead, Chanyeol moved to sit on the other end of the bench, tightening his grip on the blanket wrapped over his body.

“Now it won’t,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun shrugged and carried on smoking while looking off at the distance. He had yet to spare Chanyeol a mere glimpse since he arrived.

There was a lot to be said between them but another moment of silence fell through. Chanyeol briefly wondered if Baekhyun felt the same about wanting to get this out in the open and done with, but just didn’t know how to bring it up— much like Chanyeol.

Because they were too focused on getting to safety yesterday, they were able to avoid diving into it, but they couldn’t anymore. The tension hanging in the air between them was _especially_ hard to ignore.

He knew he couldn’t leave things as they were, but he had to think of a way to bring it up and just… talk about it like normal people.

The lack of normalcy was the most difficult part of being who they were.

Maybe that was it. He would initiate this as they both did with everything else. Blunt and straightforward.

He must have thought too long about it because as if he had been reading his mind, Baekhyun beat him to it.

“I still haven’t gotten an answer from you,” he said. “Why’d you come back?”

_Blunt and straightforward,_ Chanyeol reminded himself. As reassuring as that was, his right leg— the one closer to Baekhyun— still quivered and the back of his throat was starting to feel dry; and it was very unlike him to be nervous about confrontation. But he had to go through with it.

Chanyeol took a quick breath through his nose. “Because I need answers,” he said.

With a click of his tongue, Baekhyun brought his cigarette away from his mouth. “I thought I made myself clear last time,” he said. “We’re done.”

And just like that, Chanyeol’s nerves dissipated; his leg stopped shaking and he rediscovered the drive to say everything he had been wanting to say to Baekhyun since his last night in Busan.

“No, we’re not,” Chanyeol’s tone was sharp. “And I’m tired of playing games, Baekhyun hyung,”

It made Baekhyun _finally_ turn to look at him. For a second there, Chanyeol thought he did so that he could aim the burning end of his cigarette dead in Chanyeol’s eye— but his curious, yet amused eyes told him he could stall that urge for a couple of more minutes.

“We both fucked up by keeping something from one another, although not to defend myself, I didn’t even know I had your family ring in my apartment the whole time and I sure as hell had no idea you were looking for it,” Chanyeol said.

“But you knew,” he added.

Chanyeol’s fists tightened around the fleece between his fingers, nails digging hard enough to cut holes through the soft fabric.

He pinched his lips together and closed his eyes, scrunching up his face a bit and trying to regain his composure not to lash out at the thought of what Baekhyun did.

“You knew this whole time—” Chanyeol let out a heavy sigh. “You knew for the past _10 years_ and you still _chose_ to come to me for this job all the while keeping me in the dark.”

Chanyeol looked Baekhyun in the eyes, searching for any emotion he might evoke as he said, “and I’m willing to put that behind me just to clear out the air between us because I can’t go on like this.”

For a few seconds, Baekhyun just kept looking right back at him. Chanyeol thought if he wasn’t going to burn one of his eye off with the cigarette, he would throw it at him and have a laugh.

So it took him by utter surprise when Baekhyun spoke.

“Alright,” he’d said.

Chanyeol’s brows slowly furrowed and he backed his head away from Baekhyun.

_“…Alright_ what?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun turned away and rested his back on the wet bench, then he let out a deep sigh after having another puff of his cigarette.

“I do owe you for saving my life after nearly getting me killed yesterday,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol turned away from Baekhyun and he brought a hand up from underneath his makeshift cloak to rub his temple.

“Goes without saying that I was _young_ at the time, though I feel the need to point it out for your sake,” Baekhyun started.

So it didn’t matter that this was an important conversation that would benefit them both— Baekhyun was still Baekhyun.

“I kept tabs on you for several years following that night but decided to let it go,” he added. “At least that’s what Kim Junmyeon and I agreed to.”

Except Chanyeol knew he never kept that end of the deal.

“Until I caught him having dinner with a certain red headed kid with a scar on his face around eight months ago,” Baekhyun said. “Here in Busan no less.”

Chanyeol remembered that day vividly. It was the time he went to Busan for Junmyeon and met up with Jongin as well for some business. He nearly got himself killed but it was nowhere near as traumatising as what he went through under Baekhyun’s _employment._

He shook thoughts of that day out of his head and kept listening on to what Baekhyun had to say of his end.

“Then I found out it’s the same kid whose father I almost murdered, and that _I_ was the one who did that to his face.”

A man who’d never murdered anyone but still wouldn’t remember the faces of those he’d once hurt. Shouldn’t he at least be watching his own back or was he so confident no one would ever come after him for the things he had done?

Chanyeol sagged further into the bench, suddenly feeling a bit warm underneath his blanket. He let it fall down to his shoulders to allow some air to his head in an attempt to sooth the growing ache.

“I had you watched for a while, gathered as much on you as I cared to,” Baekhyun casually said. “And since I needed someone for the job anyway, I thought I might as well reach out to you seeing as Junmyeon had no qualms backing out of our agreement so soon after we’d established it.”

At first, Chanyeol thought he was _that_ good at his job for the current head of the _Byuns_ to be interested in striking a business deal, and it went right into his ego.

Then for a while, after thinking he was the one who killed his father, Chanyeol considered the possibility of Baekhyun having approached him out of guilt— that maybe he felt responsible for what had become of Chanyeol’s life after looking into it.

Listening to how Baekhyun was telling his side of the story, anyone else would think that this was all nothing to him.

But Chanyeol knew Baekhyun enough. He knew Baekhyun wouldn’t be spilling the bare truth of how they got to where they were now, how he didn’t hesitate one bit to get those words out; he knew it was the remorse he had felt all this time talking.

Although, he wasn’t about to let Baekhyun know he had him all figured out. So even though Chanyeol didn’t want anymore mind games between them, he voiced out the conclusion he knew Baekhyun wanted him to reach as he listened.

“You came to me because you needed a way to ensure Junmyeon stayed quiet about what happened with my father,” Chanyeol said.

Which was probably his initial plan. But as time went on, as they spent more time with one another, as they exchanged words and carefully calculated looks, and especially the look Baekhyun had given him when he recovered that vague memory of Baekhyun’s face— he knew Baekhyun had more he _wanted_ to say.

From his peripheral vision, he could see Baekhyun turned to look at him for a brief second, then he let out an amused chuckle. “You’re catching on,” he said.

“But yes, that specific Kim’s always been a weak link,” Baekhyun added. “Surprised he held on for that long.”

While he still had a fraction of a doubt about Baekhyun, Junmyeon’s feelings of guilt were written all over him the day he confessed everything to Chanyeol.

Yes, he hid everything from Chanyeol. Yes, he probably kept him close because he didn’t want him finding out and yes, it was pretty selfish of him. But maybe he only did all that to try to make up for what he had done— the thing he regretted doing because he had no other choice according to him.

And Junmyeon gave himself away so many times by trying to persuade Chanyeol to stay away from Baekhyun and not to get too close to him. Perhaps he knew the extent at which Baekhyun could ruin their relationship, which sort of worked as well.

Because had it not been for his memories resurfacing thanks to Baekhyun’s face and hands alone, Chanyeol would have never suspected either of them. Unless, of course, Baekhyun approached Chanyeol to have something to hold over Junmyeon’s head.

“Were you ever planning on telling me?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun nodded. “I was. In exchange for you finishing your job for me,” he nodded. “But you never managed to do that, remember?”

“You made sure to remind me of that detail every chance you got,” Chanyeol said.

The other hummed along as he brought his cigarette up between his lips and inhaled it, then tilted his head up to exhale.

Chanyeol watched the trail of smoke coming out of Baekhyun’s mouth and slowly disperse into the air around them.

“That’s it?” He asked.

“Were you expecting a detailed report?” Baekhyun retorted as he dropped his cigarette butt on the ground beneath his feet and stomped at it, twisting his shoe until he was certain it was out.

The informant’s gaze followed the used up cigarette on the ground up from the bottom of Baekhyun’s loungewear to the top, then up to his side profile as he stared below, probably contemplating lighting another one.

Contrary to earlier when Chanyeol’s mouth had gone completely dry, it was almost flooded with moisture. His previously tense and curious features softened up, and he let a small, accepting smile draw up on his lips.

He wasn’t sure whether this was okay or not. He didn’t know if he could just let the past stay in the past, like he said to Baekhyun at the beginning— and it wasn’t him. This wasn’t something he did. He was rarely unsure of his words or actions before saying or doing them.

Everything he had done around and for Baekhyun had been out of the norm for him. He wanted to understand why— he spent a while trying to understand why that was, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe he could just let it be what it was, and see where it would take him.

He wanted to see where Baekhyun would take him, if anywhere. And he wanted to see how long he would stay along for the ride.

Chanyeol used up most of his youth searching. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his 20s the same way, that much he was sure of. Of course, he had no regrets. He was proud of himself and the patience, perseverance, and determination he had shown while trying to reach this goal of his.

But there was so much more for him to do. Much left for him to explore; much left to discover about himself and his potential and what he could do with his skillset and possibly his degree.

He could even start living a normal life if he wanted to— but perhaps he could keep that as a last resort.

It wasn’t by any means easy; sitting side to side with the person who had every intention to kill his father one night, someone who hurt him in the past, the very reason— part of it, at least—behind his traumatic childhood experience and why he turned out as fucked up as he did.

The hardest part was _still_ being attracted to this man. It was still being fascinated by the life he led and being curious enough to stay by this man’s side for a while longer— just maybe not in Busan because he still loathed this city for everything it had to offer. Not even Baekhyun could change that.

He was going to do it. He was going to take his chance with this and see what awaited him in the near future.

But did Baekhyun feel the same? He still seemed adamant about cutting ties with Chanyeol for now.

“What am I to you?” Chanyeol asked, not wanting to dwell on those thoughts too long when he could continue his streak of blunt questions.

Baekhyun looked at him. “A shit information broker I had the misfortune of working under me,” he said.

Chanyeol shot him a deadpanned look. “Baekhyun hyung,” he warned.

The COO looked away and he sighed. “Why do you ask?” He questioned.

“I just wanna know if there’s anything for me here.”

Certainty. Closure. Either of them were fine for Chanyeol.

Everything he had known up to the moment he found out it was the person closest to him that murdered his father had been a lie. The only person he ever trusted turned out to be the one person he shouldn’t have. He couldn’t even get him back for what he had done because he meant a lot to him at a point in time, so he couldn’t even get his closure there. He didn’t want anything to do with Junmyeon for the time being because he couldn’t stand the mere sight of him.

He felt restless ever since his last night in Busan with Baekhyun and he just wanted to move on. That was why he got on that train back to the city he hated in the first place.

Baekhyun didn’t answer for the longest couple of minutes in Chanyeol’s life. And he almost gave up on the other. His suspicions that Baekhyun had been playing with him all that time slowly resurfaced. Maybe everything _was_ an act. All the kisses, the late night talks, their intimacy, the couple of times Baekhyun opened up to him— the look of guilt and remorse after he got shot the first time; for those few minutes of Baekhyun’s silence, the genuineness of all those acts started fading. 

For those few minutes, he forgot that he believed in the sincerity behind each and every one of those moments when they were happening.

Chanyeol looked away from Baekhyun and sat back properly on the bench, chin lowering onto his chest and eyes fixated down at his feet.

Maybe he expected a bit too much too soon. Maybe not taking Baekhyun’s point of view on their situation into consideration before he set out to speak was a mistake.

This was it between them.

Without any words though, Baekhyun grabbed the two ends of the blanket draped around Chanyeol’s shoulders and he pulled him towards himself, leveling down Chanyeol’s head with his own, and he smashed their lips against one another.

No odds he had drawn up prior to his trip to Busan led to this type of conclusion between them— but Chanyeol’s brain stopped processing and focused on feeling.

He focused only on what was happening. Because he felt like he had been deprived of this for so long, he wanted to lose himself in Baekhyun. He wanted to soak up as much of this moment as he could, because for all he knew, this was probably a goodbye kiss.

So he indulged. He allowed Baekhyun to take the lead, and he allowed himself to enjoy every millisecond of it.

Baekhyun’s soft lips were awfully warm despite having been here out in the cold longer than Chanyeol had been awake.

He heard that smoking cigarettes kept you warm in the cold— could that have been the reason why Baekhyun’s lips, mouth, and touch felt hot? He could taste the residue from the cigarette in Baekhyun’s mouth all too well, and Chanyeol couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences of second-hand smoking at the moment.

Not knowing what to do with his arms, they remained awkwardly placed between their bodies. One of his hands pressed firmly against the fresh dressing of the healing wound on the side of his stomach.

A hand of Baekhyun’s let go of the blanket and palmed Chanyeol’s nape, sharing his body’s warmth and making the hair on Chanyeol’s back stand on end. It sent tingles to the tips of his limbs— as well as his other head.

It mustn’t have lasted long, but for Chanyeol who had been thinking about this despite it being wrong, it must have been an hour.

Baekhyun pulled away eventually, keeping his hold on Chanyeol as they both panted for air. And Chanyeol was a bit thankful for that because it wasn’t the right time or place to dip it and do it.

“Did that suffice for an answer?” Baekhyun asked.

Still a bit dazed, Chanyeol cocked his head.

“Can’t you answer a question like a normal human being?” He asked slowly.

A corner of Baekhyun’s lips lifted slightly upwards in a hint of a smile. “I just did,” he answered.

Chanyeol raised a brow and grabbed Baekhyun’s wrists, pulling his hands away from the blanket. Then he backed away a little, but kept facing Baekhyun.

“Not really,” Chanyeol said. “My takeaway’s that I’m just someone you want to kiss.”

Whatever it took, he was going to make Baekhyun say it out loud for once. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it right this time.No mind games, no playing around. At least not to an unnecessary extent because they were still _Chanyeol and Baekhyun._

“You’ve missed a point or two, but you’re on the right track,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol shot him a glare. “Why don’t you just use your words?” He asked.

“Because I don’t think you need a verbal answer to that question.”

The informant closed his eyes and a let out a tired sigh. “Baekhyun hyung,” he nagged.

Baekhyun groaned and clasped two fingers over Chanyeol’s ear— he winced as he was pulled closer to the other.

“You’re not leaving my side again.”

Chanyeol almost snickered at the gesture.

Stuff like that may have driven him insane under the sheets, but he nearly gagged at Baekhyun’s idea of romance.

Chanyeol accepted it for what it was, though. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're /finally/ come to a compromise and things are slowly coming to an end 👀


	15. Chapter 15

Sleeping with somebody had always sounded somewhat ridiculous to Chanyeol at first.

Not the sex part, but simply lying next to someone and willingly giving them full consent to be in the same bed while he was at his most vulnerable; at his most defenseless state. Especially being the heavy sleeper Chanyeol was.

The most terrifying part was being certain that the other person would bring him no harm. It was a pretty dangerous thing to do if anything, especially when the person he chose to gave the consent to was Byun Baekhyun.

As time went on and as their relationship changed over the past three months though, it stopped being scary.

Besides occasionally waking up in each other’s arms— not always, because they found each other’s sleeping habits unbearable at times; things haven’t been as romantically domestic past the bedroom hours. They would each go on about their own day, and get back to the other if they had time to.

It wasn’t for them. It wasn’t _them_.

Chanyeol’s eyes followed the motes of dust dancing in one of the bright shafts of afternoon sunshine that cut through the blinds. His ears rang in the silence of the apartment.

Their relationship was different than that. It wasn’t love, it was lust, an _overwhelming_ attraction, and an unexplainable attachment they felt towards one another. They were just… comfortable being around the other.

It took a few weeks for the tension of everything that had happened to simmer down between them.

Chanyeol spent a month longer than intended to recover from his injuries in Busan, and throughout— especially through watching Kyungsoo— he learned his way around reading Baekhyun.

Then soon after, Baekhyun became comfortable with Chanyeol’s new ability to understand him through glances and small actions, and he opted to rely on that instead of using his words like Chanyeol hoped he would.

It gave him an insight on the little ounce of vulnerability Baekhyun still refused to show, and it made Chanyeol automatically reciprocate it.

Perhaps he would show Baekhyun he wasn’t afraid of letting his guard down completely someday— as if sleeping with him each time he came to Seoul wasn’t enough. Would Baekhyun set down his walls for Chanyeol then?

After having been spaced out long enough, Chanyeol shifted his gaze below to the figure fast asleep on his forearm that laid across the other’s pillow, then traced the fading scar on the hand sprawled on the space between them.

Baekhyun looked far too unthreatening and almost innocent when he slept in those pyjama sets he kept in Chanyeol’s apartment.

It was past noon, they’ve both slept long enough already— Baekhyun should wake up any minute now to make a fuss about the suit he had arrived in last night still lying on Chanyeol’s bedroom floor. It was fine with Chanyeol, seeing as they hadn’t seen each other in a while and were in a rush. 

Chanyeol allowed Baekhyun to continue drooling on his arm while he moved his other hand up to lightly trace the three-month old scar on the back of Baekhyun’s hand with his finger.

Then, feeling a bit more bold, Chanyeol moved his hand up to push Baekhyun’s hair away from his forehead. The motion made the COO’s mouth snap closed and he inhaled sharply through his nose as he started waking up.

An extremely light sleeper, he was.

He opened his eyes, blinking at Chanyeol before glaring at him and turning to the other side.

Chanyeol felt an urge to tease the older that morning, so he began poking his nape, then he slipped his fingers beneath his button-up top and ghosted them upwards.

When he didn’t evoke a reaction from the other, Chanyeol pulled his hand out and poked an ass cheek.

Faster than his eyes could follow, Baekhyun turned around and straddled him, shooting him a sleepy glower.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun said nothing, keeping his eyes down at the other.

“What?” Chanyeol asked. “You looked too relaxed in your sleep. You were even drooling on my ar—”

Baekhyun leaned in and cut Chanyeol’s words short with a kiss— engaging their tongues more than Chanyeol thought he would so early in the day.

When he finally backed away, Chanyeol couldn’t resist commenting.

“I didn’t need a taste of your morning breath that way,” he said.

Baekhyun’s sharp tongue was quick with a response. “And I didn’t need to smell yours right after getting a taste,” he said as he leaned away.

The informant lost himself in Baekhyun’s half-lidded eyes for a moment, and he found himself slightly gravitating up for more. And Baekhyun gave it to him. His eyes fluttered shut as they kissed for a second time.

In a cruel twist of fate, Chanyeol’s phone rang and it was Baekhyun who broke the kiss to reach out to the bedside table and tossed it to Chanyeol. Then he got up.

Chanyeol groaned as he sat up against his bed’s backboard, then he looked at the caller ID and he frowned. Baekhyun shot him a look as he took his clothes off and started putting his suit on, moving across the room to pick up one item of clothing at a time and putting it on while his eyes lingered on Chanyeol.

He looked back down to his screen. This was the first Chanyeol read or even heard that name in _months._ Since he dropped him off in Baekhyun’s building in Busan that night, to be precise.

Chanyeol ran his fingers through his hair to push it out of the way. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach as his body grew heavy at the possibilities of what this could mean.

Why did Junmyeon suddenly call him?

Given how they weren’t exactly on good terms right now, it would have been more proper of him to text first. Did he think he still had any right to call unannounced as if their relationship hadn’t changed? As if everything was still the same as before between them?

Because they weren’t. Things weren’t the same and they definitely weren’t the same people, either.

He bent one of his knees, and then straightened it out, not knowing what to do with his body as his phone continued ringing and more seconds passed before he could make a decision.

As usual, though, his overwhelming need to know _why_ got the best of him. Although he was still hurt, he still needed to understand what was going through Junmyeon’s head when he made the phone call.

So he slid his thumb across the screen to answer, and he put the phone against his ear without saying anything.

He felt a pang he couldn’t explain in his chest when he heard Junmyeon’s voice.

_“We need to talk.”_

Chanyeol stayed quiet for a moment longer. He thought he was clear enough last time, but maybe Junmyeon needed a refresher that he wanted nothing to do with him.

He had _just_ _barely_ moved on from that aspect of what happened and Junmyeon was quick to drag him back to where he started.

“When and where?” Chanyeol simply asked.

He hung up as soon as Junmyeon gave him the details, not giving him a chance to say anything else.

Chanyeol sighed, then looked up and saw that Baekhyun was fully clothed and was facing a mirror to fix himself up as best as he could.

“You’re leaving?” Chanyeol asked.

As Baekhyun adjusted his tie, he kept his eyes on his reflection while he spoke. “You didn’t think I was going to stay here all day, did you?” He said. “Need I remind you that I didn’t come to the city specifically for you?”

Chanyeol hummed. “But I _am_ the only thing you get to enjoy doing here,” he said as he jumped out of bed.

Baekhyun snorted. “Bye,” he said as he walked out.

He chuckled as he watched Baekhyun leave.

Chanyeol got showered and changed for the day, then he moved to his desk to see what he had to get done before his designated meeting with Junmyeon.

After he recovered from his injuries, he focused on graduating while running his business as usual. He kept everything organized, under complete control, and as normal as it had been before he took on Baekhyun’s job in Busan.

By the time he was done checking on emails and updating profiles with information obtained from his various contacts throughout the country, a few hours had already passed.

He decided to go out for a mundane meal and take away coffee before getting back home and relaxing a bit.

Time couldn’t have passed any slower.

While he couldn’t wait to get the meeting over with, he was curious as to what Junmyeon had to say _now_ after that much time had passed since he outed himself.

Chanyeol still resented him for what he had done, but that was the extent of his feelings towards Junmyeon. For now, he didn’t think any hostility would make itself present if he were to lay eyes on the other again. He couldn’t say for certain, though.

Hell, he never thought this day would come, let alone that he would accept an invitation to meet him.

——————

Since he woke up quite late, the sun was starting to set already, which meant that it was almost time for their meeting.

Chanyeol left his apartment and walked to the nearest subway station to head to Myeongdong.

It was rush hour as most people were headed back home from work and school, and each time Chanyeol got on the subway during that hour, he’d swear to himself that he wouldn’t again. It was too crowded to even people watch.

So he got lost in his own thoughts and drowned out his hearing with music instead during the 40-minute long train ride.

Now just because it was Junmyeon who asked him to meet and not the other way around, he wasn’t going to let him do all the talking. He did a lot of it already, and Chanyeol highly doubted he had any new additions to his end of the story.

The informant had given what he would say to Junmyeon if he were to see him again plenty of thought over the past three months.

What he had in mind wasn’t deemed important enough for him to mull over or even contact Junmyeon first to tell him, but Chanyeol thought it would be appropriate if he could say it before he gave Junmyeon the freedom to run his mouth and work his charm. Not that it would work. Not with Chanyeol, who knew and was used to his persuasive ways, at least. 

He was slightly irritated by the time he got to his destination, and he silently cursed at Junmyeon for picking such a touristic area to meet.

Although given how the cable car he had to get on to get to Namsan tower was closed off to the public, he had a sneaking feeling that the other may have pulled some strings for some privacy.

Chanyeol sighed as he got on the cable car alone. It was a bit shaky during the ascent, but at least he got this quiet view of the greenery in downtown Seoul for himself. He never thought he needed to lose himself in the scenery seeing as he _lived there._ So all in all, it was a nice change.

It didn’t take long until he reached Namsan Park, where he walked through a place usually packed with tourists all alone. So Junmyeon _had_ closed off the place for the night.

Because he was viewed as an important figure and feared for his own life, he always had to take those extras measures of safety. But how could he have such power and influence over a city that wasn’t even within his grasp?

If he wanted to, he could snatch that seat as the head Kim from Minseok as easy and as quick as flicking an ant away.

Chanyeol walked through the wooden deck as he got out of the cable car, then he climbed up a short flight of stairs that led to the famous railing aligned with love locks.

He walked slowly as he followed it, feeling the cool night breeze against his face. Spring was ending already and summer was just around the corner. After one of the longest winters of his life, he wasn’t sure he was ready for the heat and humidity. So he wanted to take as much of this nice weather in as he could.

Before long, he reached Namsan square— the base of the tower— and he looked around the empty area till he spotted one of Junmyeon’s bodyguards by the stairs that would lead down to the tower’s plaza.

He cut through the courtyard and received a greeting as he got closer to the familiar man, who motioned for him to go down.

The first step he took down the stairs was slow and hesitant, but his strides grew more confident with each step. He was ready for this.

He walked until the open corridor took him to a corner where he was forced to cut right. And by the end of it, he spotted Junmyeon’s small figure leaned again the glass railing facing Han river. The sight was as dramatic as Chanyeol expected it to be, much like the man behind the motion.

He stopped a few feet away behind the other.

“You’re here,” Junmyeon said without turning around.

Chanyeol hummed, unable to find his words and he hasn’t even seen Junmyeon’s face yet to react in such a way.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and he pressed his lips into a straight line awaiting to see or hear what Junmyeon called him here for. He took a deep breath through his nose.

“Chanyeol—”

Realising they couldn’t do it this way, he cut him short as he exhaled. “Can I say something first?”

He could see the back of Junmyeon’s head bob in a nod. Carefully, he took small steps forward and leaned against the railing right next to Junmyeon. He made sure to stay a few feet away though, as he wasn’t ready for that much proximity. Neither of them got a look at the other’s face yet.

“You hurt me,” Chanyeol began. “What you did was probably worse than what you tried hiding from me.”

He shifted from one leg to the other as he folded both his arms on the metal rod separating him from a long drop to the river. 

“Ever since then I kept wondering why on earth you’d keep me around knowing I was on the hunt for— well, _you,”_ Chanyeol said. “I believe I know you better than to just think it was out of complete stupidity.”

Because even at a young age, Junmyeon was calculating and wary of everything that went on around him. He almost never made any mistakes— not with his job. Chanyeol couldn’t speak for Junmyeon’s personal life as of the past few months.

“So even though you told me your reasons were entirely selfish, my instincts tell me there’s more to your story than just that,” Chanyeol said. “Although nothing you say’ll change anything, I’m ready to hear you out now.”

Junmyeon let out a shaky laughter.

Chanyeol turned to look at his face only to see him bending forward, head and chest almost parallel to the ground beneath them as he held onto the fencing with his palms.

“I see you’re as sharp as always,” Junmyeon commented.

The informant shrugged. “You can say I learned from being by your side all these years.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement; almost as if he was smiling.

He was… calm. Too calm for someone who should have been begging for forgiveness— unless of course it wasn’t the reason why he called Chanyeol up here.

Junmyeon straightened himself back up but kept his eyes ahead.

After getting a proper glimpse at his side profile to confirm that yes, he _did_ seem as amused— or rather, _relieved_ as he sounded, Chanyeol turned back around and watched the pink and purple hues of a springtime sunset.

“My initial intention was to wipe out the red from my ledger,” Junmyeon said. “Then you caught my genuine interest and I couldn’t help but keep you by my side from then onwards.”

Essentially, just as Chanyeol thought, he wasn’t lying before when he said it was out of guilt. He tried to right his wrongs by giving the son of the man he killed everything his father couldn’t give him because _he_ took his life. Junmyeon had no reason to lie now that what they had was already shattered.

If that told Chanyeol anything, it was how pure hearted Junmyeon was despite who he was and despite the dangerous people he was related to _and_ worked closely with.

Junmyeon was a good person.

“I slowly forgot why I was on the lookout for you in the first place until I learned you were searching for _me,”_ Junmyeon said. “I even tried manipulating you out of it but you wouldn’t budge.”

He tried talking Chanyeol out of so many things through persuasions masked as _looking out for what was best for him._ Somehow, something in the back of Chanyeol’s mind always told him not to go along with whatever Junmyeon advised him to do or not to do.

It often led to stubborn back and forths and Chanyeol walking away to get what he wanted anyway. Junmyeon always yielded and let him do what he wanted— and Chanyeol could see now that Junmyeon chose anything over losing his grip on Chanyeol for good each time.

With his head cleared up, he could see now that it was out of attachment. Maybe not at first, but it evolved into that the more time passed.

“I focused on keeping the truth about what happened that night hidden from you instead—” Junmyeon said. “And it worked just fine at the time but I was only postponing the inevitable.”

Keepning the truth hidden…?

“You’re the reason why I couldn’t find any information on my father?” Chanyeol turned to him and asked.

Junmyeon nodded. “Sort of,” he said. “He already made it hard enough. I only tried making sure it was entirely impossible for you to find any leads.”

That explained why he couldn’t find anything on his father even after hiring one of the best hackers in the country. Or maybe seeing how Junmyeon worked closely with said hacker, he was the one responsible for the lack of information on his father to begin with.

“I didn’t think it’d be Baekhyun of all people who’d throw me off,” Junmyeon said.

Junmyeon kept him close to ensure he wouldn’t find out the truth about the night his father was killed, and Baekhyun got in touch because he was worried Junmyeon would pin it all on _him_.

Had there been any proper communication between the two when Junmyeon first pursued Chanyeol, they both would have gotten away with it.

In a way, he was thankful to Baekhyun for screwing Junmyeon over and messing with his head enough for him to combust and expose himself.

Junmyeon cleared his throat and turned to face Chanyeol, who was staring at him as his thoughts raced trying to connect everything.

“I can’t apologise for what I did 10 years ago but I hope you’ll accept my sincere apologies for lying to you and keeping you from the truth.”

Once those words left Junmyeon’s mouth, it downed on Chanyeol how much he wanted to hear those words.

It would have been a different story had Junmyeon not meant anything to Chanyeol, but he was an older brother figure to him. He had been around for as long as Chanyeol could remember.

They may have had a bit of a rocky start, but they matured and grew up together. They were always there for one another, they had one too many meals while they were both annoyed at something the other did— they even vacationed together several times.

All of this was as hard on Chanyeol as he imagined it was on Junmyeon.

What they shared was more intimate than whatever it was he’d ever share with Baekhyun or anyone else.

But it was all too soon. It would take time, as _much_ of it as he had, for those wounds of Chanyeol’s to heal and for Junmyeon to regain even the smallest bit of trust back, if even possible.

“I appreciate it, it’s just…” Chanyeol said, swallowing back the coil he felt wrapped around his neck.

“I don’t think I have it in me to forgive you,” he finally let out. “Maybe not yet.”

Junmyeon nodded and gave the most forced looking smile Chanyeol had ever seen on his face. “I completely understand,” he said. “I’d have done the same.”

He pushed himself away from the rail and turned around. “Thank you for hearing me out,” he said as he began walking.

Chanyeol’s eyes followed him until he was almost rounding the corner.

“Junmyeon hyung—” he called out.

The other stopped but didn’t turn around.

Chanyeol took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he said, voice just loud enough to be carried over to the other end of the open corridor.

Junmyeon didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but eventually turned around with a neutral expression on his face.

“If you ever need anything or if Byun Bastard ever cuts you again, don’t hesitate to call me,” Junmyeon said.

Chanyeol gave a small smile and hummed. Then Junmyeon turned back around and walked away.

He was fine with this.

Nothing would ever go back to the way it was between them, and although the mere thought of that hurt just as much as the _years_ of lying and manipulation, Chanyeol thought it was better off this way. Because their brotherhood had always been genuine on both ends. And he was sure of it now.

What Junmyeon did was terrible, but in an enigmatic, twisted way, it didn’t change what they shared. He knew Junmyeon would always be there for him— he didn’t have to hear him say that.

Chanyeol turned back and stuck around until the sun was set completely, then he left.

——————

As the elevator opened up and revealed his entryway with all the lights on, Chanyeol knew someone was in his apartment before he heard or saw anything.

He took his shoes off and left them there, too exhausted to put them aside. Then he walked farther inside.

The closer he got to his living room, the more clear Baekhyun’s voice became. He seemed to have been on a phone call.

“I trust you’ll handle things well while I’m away,” he had said.

Chanyeol peeked his head, finding the COO seated on his swivel chair with his legs crossed as he spun it around. He was still in his suit.

He darted a look at Chanyeol before he stopped his cycle facing the window. “Mmm I’ll see you in a few weeks then.”

Baekhyun ended the call like that and got up.

Chanyeol didn’t even want to know what that was about.

“I like your chair,” Baekhyun said as he approached him. “I should get one of these for my own office.”

Chanyeol threw his body on the sofa and rested his head back, closing his eyes.

“Why don’t you just take the one collecting dust in my old _apartment,”_ Chanyeol suggested. 

Baekhyun hummed. “I don’t know what Kyungsoo ended up doing with everything in there, but if you thought I’d be content with your sloppy seconds, guess again.”

Chanyeol hummed, letting Baekhyun have this one. He felt the cushion dip next to him, but he didn’t bother turning around or even opening his eyes to see what Baekhyun was up to.

“How’d it go with him?” Baekhyun asked.

Of course he knew where he was and who he was with.

“It went fine,” Chanyeol responded. “I think we’re in a good place now.”

“I see,” Baekhyun said.

Junmyeon and him were in a good place. But what of him and Baekhyun?

They were stuck in this stable, comfortable pace. Chanyeol said he would stick around to find out where being with Baekhyun would take him, but till when? How much longer will they keep at this tread?

He enjoyed it, _really,_ but… what did the future have in store for them? Was there even anything?

After all the uncertainty with Junmyeon, he felt the need to know. He wanted to know if anything about Baekhyun’s feelings towards him have changed.

Baekhyun was quiet beside him and he was about to open his eyes back to up look at him, until he felt a weight on his lap and realised he won’t need to.

“Finally,” Baekhyun whispered.

He furrowed his brows for a second before he raised them in understanding. This was for cutting their afternoon short.

Baekhyun wasted no time in locking their lips together as he wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s neck. 

_Warm._

He felt Baekhyun suck in a quiet breath through his nose. Their kiss was worn out and lazy, undoubtedly from the busy schedules they had after setting apart earlier. But it was comfortable.

The way their legs were intertwined with one another on the sofa felt awkward, but fuck if it wasn’t cozy too.

And a part of him wanted this to remain and evolve for as long as they could go.

His feelings might have projected onto the kiss, because Baekhyun pulled away and searched his eyes for answers.

“What about us?” Chanyeol asked him as he looked into his droopy eyes.

Baekhyun showed no change of emotions.

“You’re overthinking things again,” he said. “What did we say about overthinking, Chanyeol?”

“I know, I know—” Chanyeol said as he sighed. “It’s just after that talk with Junmyeon I couldn’t help it.”

Baekhyun tilted his head to the side as he contemplated.

“I told you before, it’ll probably never work out the way you want it to,” Baekhyun said. “We’re both too stubborn.”

“Tch, speak for yourself,” Chanyeol said. “I’m a changed man.”

Baekhyun snorted. “You’re still the immature know-it-all brat I met four months ago.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “And you’re still the same cunning narcissistic asshole,” he said.

“See?” Baekhyun said as he chuckled . “I told you— _normal_ is tedious for the likes of us.”

And he was right. They’d be at each other’s throats if they went about this any other way.

“I don’t know what your obsession with conventional relationships is, but I assure you it isn’t for us,” Baekhyun said as he settled against Chanyeol’s chest. “Trust me, I know better.”

Because neither of them felt their still-growing attraction develop beyond that, Baekhyun’s point of view made sense.

“Mm I guess the unpredictability of us is more exciting,” Chanyeol said as he pressed his lips against Baekhyun’s hair.

When Baekhyun’s fingers linked with his against the cushion— something they had _never_ done before, nor did Chanyeol ever expect, he closed his eyes and smiled.

“I’ll make sure you’re always at the edge of your seat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end!!! 
> 
> i can't believe how little it took to upload all chapters compared to how long it took to complete them 😭 while i enjoyed the plotting, outlining, and researching i've done for this fic, it really wasn't easy writing it! especially since i had to adjust my usual writing style to fit the genre 
> 
> that being said, i would like to thank every single one of you who commented and left kudos, it really helped a lot 🥺♡
> 
> also would like to add that i'm never revisiting this genre, so (if you're interested), expect plenty of fluff/angst + hurt/comfort fics 🤧 cause i sure miss writing them~! 
> 
> i'm currently writing a childhood friends to lovers cb fic with plenty of fluff and angst, so if that sounds like something you might like, please look out for it ♡ 
> 
> also also while i'm not that active, i'm @honeyeollie on twt if anyone wants to be mutuals or wants to stalk my writing updates/rants or just wants to talk about cb and hype breadcrumbs 🥺 
> 
> again, thank you all for the support!! ♡♡


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